


The House Master

by SteinShipping61



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Panic, High School, M/M, Multi, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Trans Character, Trans Grell Sutcliff, Yaoi, vintaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteinShipping61/pseuds/SteinShipping61
Summary: It's the first day of another boring school year.Vincent Phantomhive is left unsatisfied and clinging to the past, until a new object of his interests arrives. And he captivates the stunningly mysterious new boy. It's Vincent's fateful luck that the fascinating silver-haired asshole decides to hang out with him.
Relationships: Diedrich/Vincent Phantomhive, Vincent Phantomhive/Undertaker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Interesting

Adrian sighs, another new school year and he finds himself at his 5th high school. All the others couldn't handle him. He was 'weird' and 'offensive' and kept getting bullied so to avoid dealing with the bullying, they just kept transferring him. Then again, Adrian embraces the 'weird' label. He enters the school and observes the commonroom. Boring, like most humans are. There better be some interesting ones here.

The bell rings and Adrian checks his timetable. Where the shit is the science corridor? Eventually, he finds it by following tiny and poorly placed plaques on the wall.

"Oh, I have a seating plan," His biology teacher scrambles through his cluttered desk. It's only the first day and the desk looks like an unrestored WWII artefact. Finally, the teacher finds his stupid plan. "Adrian Crevan, you're beside Vincent Phantomhive,"

He points to the seat.

Vincent looks up from his phone and smirks, a hint of amusement behind his eyes. Is he a bully? He doesn't look like one. The long-haired boy stalks to the lab bench and takes his seat.

"You're new," Vincent asserts with that same infuriating expression. "I'd remember a face like yours,"

_Is he flirting with me?_ Adrian wonders.

"Obviously," Adrian answers plainly, staring out the window at an unchanging skyline. The world has been plunged into stasis, the Earth's rotting corpse consuming his vision.

"Thought so. Why the switch? Bit foolish to switch only for sixth form isn't it?" Vincent's flirting continues unabated by Adrian's _obvious_ disinterest.

"Old one couldn't handle me," Adrian answers with admittedly, some pride.

"And you came to our little corner of buttfuck nowhere? I'm touched," Vincent dramatically covers his heart, as if overwhelmed by a romantic gesture.

"This is the last school that'd take me," Adrian pauses to take in Vincent's remarkable beauty and his even more remarkable hair colour.

"Is that so? Are you a rebel then? Your hair suggests so,"

"Look," The taller boy turns sharply to face Vincent. "You seem... nice, but there's really no point. I don't intend on actually coming to school,"

Except biology. Biology is made interesting by the flirty hot guy he sits beside who's way out of his league.

The bell rings for second period and Vincent follows Adrian (who totally wanted to be on his own) into the corridor.

"Hey, why are you following me? Don't you have a class to go to?"

Vincent smirks and leans in closer, bumping his bag against Adrian's. The taller doesn't react and he rolls his eyes. "You really are an arse, aren't you? I'm being nice,"

"I don't want pity niceness,"

"Oh, it isn't pity. I find you exceptionally interesting compared to these boring fucks," Vincent gestures to the other students. "Besides, I'm doing the school a favour, if you like me then you might actually come to classes," He chuckled and skips ahead to the business corridor.

"You're crazy if you that's ever happening!"

Adrian goes to chemistry, Vincent to the business corridor adjacent.

"What took you so long?" asks Vincent's desk partner in business, Diedrich.

"Oh, you know. I got held up in chemistry by someone interesting,".

Diedrich is quietly weary of this 'someone interesting'. When he and Vincent started in Year 7, he was the most 'interesting' person here for Vincent to examine. Someone new doesn't bode well for his status in Vincent's favour.

"Mhmm" he focuses on the teacher, or at least makes it look that way. If Vincent finds this new person interesting, he'll realise he doesn't want to be around Diedrich after all. 

*

Without Vincent to guide him, Adrian wanders to sixth form class before eventually finding it, five minutes late. He stares at his timetable, debating whether to obediently acquiesce to its pseudo-authority or skip it in lieu of getting high. But he might find that charismatic charmer in his form class and decides to attend. Just this once.

The form teacher is a short, lithe person sitting at the desk. They lock eyes with Adrian but barely notice him. "You're new, yeah?" they smile, the smile quivering with something all-too-familiar to Adrian: social anxiety. "Just give me your name and I'll put you on the system, I won't mark you late," 

"Adrian," he rolls his eyes. Why doesn't this asshole just check what name they haven't kicked off yet? 

"Oh I know who you are," they nod, lowering their voice. "Listen, Adrian, I know how shitty school can be. If you feel uncomfortable or pissed off, or anything, me and everyone here are here to help you. Okay?" 

"Yes," Adrian agrees, knowing the teacher wants to be left alone just as much as he does. 

"Great, sit anywhere," 

The only open seat is beside a guy with long hair, dyed dark red. He peers up at Adrian behind scarlet, half-mood glasses. His eyes sparkle a deep emerald, observing Adrian and he throws his bag down and all but collapses into his seat. 

"Afternoon, I'm Grell," he extends a hand. "She/ her," 

"Oh. Adrian," Adrian extends his own hand, blinking in surprise. "He/ him," 

He looks around but Vincent is nowhere to be found. Leaning on his hand, he sighs deeply, deteriorating into a groan. "Vincent Phantomhive isn't in this class, is he?" 

"You know Vincent?" Grell smirks, flipping her hair back. "That makes sense,"

Adrian wonders what she means by that. "I met him this morning," 

"Hmm, well no, he isn't in this class. Lunchtime is next though, I can take you to Vincent if you like," she smiles at him knowingly. 

"Thanks," he looks away, pulling his feet onto the seat, knees drawn to his chest. Grell keeps talking but he doesn't mind, knowing she doesn't expect him to respond and apathetic even if she does. He waits in anticipation for the bell to ring. 

*

In the cafeteria, Vincent looks around discreetly, trying to find that beam of shimmering silver towering over the heads of the other student. However, that person finds him first, appearing alongside Grell. He grins and drags the tall, silver-haired boy into the dinner queue. "Adrian!"

Vincent smirks at Grell. "Thanks for the delivery," 

Grell extends her hand, looking at Vincent expectantly. "I'll take my fee now, thanks," 

"Oh, but Grell - I never ordered this delivery," Vincent bats his eyes innocently. "How can you expect me to pay a fee for a delivery I never ordered?" 

"Fine," Grell huffs, lowering her hand. "But this is going on your tab," 

"Uh... what the fuck is happening?" Adrian looks between Grell, Vincent and the guy standing behind Vincent who hasn't yet spoken. 

"Grell and I have an arrangement. If we see someone the other will find interesting, we deliver them for a price," Vincent explains confidently. 

"But what if you both find the same person interesting?" Adrian asks as he grabs a handful of salt packets from the box. 

"Trust me, that'll never happen," Grell laughs. "We have very different tastes," 

They approach the counter and collect food. Adrian's name isn't yet in the system, so Vincent pays for his. They congregate around a table, Adrian opposite the tall, built guy with sleek black hair. 

"Who the fuck are you?" he asks, pouring several salt packers on his order. 

"This is Diedrich," Vincent places a hand on the boy's shoulder, sipping tea with the other. 

"Is he your boyfriend?" Adrian asks awkwardly. 

"No," Vincent answers quickly. Diedrich's disappointment escapes neither of him, even if his face remains expressionless. 

"And Grell isn't...?" 

"Not my type," Vincent dismisses. 

Adrian realises that he hasn't explored the school at all. Usually, on the first day, he'd use his solitude to find secret passages, unused stairwell, unlocked closets and alcoves where he can skip classes, sit and smoke and blast music. But now that he's... in a friend group... he can't do that in any great detail. 

Nevertheless, he asks if they can walk around the building to locate his afternoon classes. 

Vincent and Adrian have the same English class next, and Adrian can't explore in-depth while in a group. The bell rings and Grell and Diedrich meander to their next classes, leaving Adrian and Vincent at English. 

Adrian takes a seat in the very back row, Vincent following. 

"I don't think I've ever sat at the back before," Vincent looks around from this strange, new perspective of the classroom.

Adrian smirks endearingly. "Aw, are you too obedient for this?"

Vincent glares. "I'm not, I simply don't make it obvious, unlike you,"

The taller boy scowls, but it quickly slips into a wry smirk. "Come on Vincent, I'm not that bad,"

The lesson begins, the teacher droning on and on about poems that sit in front of each student. It's a poem about New York from the perspective of Scottish poet. Adrian reads over his, _Hotel Room, 12th Floor_ by Norman McCaig. He figures it out easily. 

"You aren't anything fucking special, Norman. Your poetry sucks,"

"I like it," Vincent frowns as Adrian begins making his own annotations, deliberately ignoring the teacher's neglectful explanation. 

Vincent watches him write, mesmerised by the rapid, anxious movements of his scarred hands. Perhaps some of his nerves have been damaged by those wounds.

"Adrian?"

"Yes?" he keeps writing. 

"Why did you have to move school?" 

Adrian leans into him, speaking into his ear suggestively. "I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself. Come on Vincent, it's no fun if you don't try and figure me out," he coaxes. 

Vincent sits back, pondering. "What about me, then? What do you have figured out about me?"

"Nothing," Adrian admits. The boy sitting beside him is an enigma. "Now, I asked you why I had to keep moving schools," 

"You got into fights?" Vincent takes a stab in the dark. 

"God no, I don't fight," Adrian wrinkles his nose in discomfort. "Hey, you know I'm gay, right?" 

Vincent rolls his eyes with a deadpan scowl. "That's like asking if I know you have silver hair when it's right there in front of me," 

"Thanks, it's the childhood malnutrition," Adrian laughs, looking off into the distance for a second like he's been glitched. "Low Vitamin B-12," 

Vincent watches Adrian silently for a few seconds. Is he supposed to laugh? "Can I copy your notes?" he asks, staring down at his blank poem and Adrian's bustling masterpiece. 

"Of course," The taller boy stares into space for the remainder of the class, listening to Vincent write as white noise. 

The next class is Religious Studies and while Adrian adores theology, he walks Vincent to History instead. 

"I'm skipping, fuck it," he decides. His gaze slides conspiratorially over to Vincent. "Wanna skip with me?" 

Vincent bites his lip in thought. "Let me go inside for registration and then sneak out,"

Adrian raises his hands in surrender. "Fine, if you want to waste time,"

He waits in the empty corridor for Vincent, mirroring his grin when the shock of blue hair appears at the doorway. Vincent follows him quickly, clenching and unclenching his fists between alternating spike of adrenaline. He's unused to doing something so brazenly rebellious. 

They go outside. The doors have a sign on them warning that they're alarmed during class times, but when Adrian pushes he door open, no alarms sound. 

"Fucking liars," he spits at the door. 

They find a stone bench to sit on, in a secluded area atop the hill. Adrian grips his trouser legs tugging them up and exposing his ankles. 

"So uh... are you gay too?"

"No," Vincent answers casually. While he internally spontaneously combusts. Adrian is fucking beautiful. Tall, slender, and his ankles... Vincent starts to understand why it was regulation to cover sexy ankles in the Victorian era. He denies the truth only because he doesn't want to lead Adrian on when he has no intention of getting into a relationship, no matter who with. Boys like Adrian are hot, dangerous, smoky. The exact type Vincent likes and the exact type he hurts. 

"Oh," Adrian nods carefully, concealing his disappointment behind a thin veil of apathy. Hoping it's working, on some level knowing it isn't. "So you and Diedrich aren't an item?" 

"No," 

Adrian needs to smoke. He picks up his schoolbag and rests it on is knees. Inside one of the straps is a small compartment, a slit cut through the fabric. From the compartment, he pulls a thinly rolled stick. 

"Oh, you're smoking?" 

"D'you mind?" He lights the joint between his fingers, letting the smoke trickle upwards. "The smoke doesn't bother you, does it?" 

As an answer, Vincent leans against Adrian, resting his head on the taller's shoulder. His hand grazes Adrian's thigh, making his shudder at the stimulating touch. 

"Why do you care so much what people think of you?" Adrian asks, holding in smoke as he speaks before releasing it. "You can't skip classes, you can't sit at the back, you made me give you my notes," 

"Hm, figure me out?" Vincent offers, challenging Adrian with his smirk. 

Adria nods, recognising he's given up his leverage and already told Vincent he's difficult to read. 

"Your parents," Adrian guesses, a shot in the dark. 

"You're right," Vincent smiles. "The question now is: why don't you care what people think?" 

Adrian leans his head back, as if exposing his vulnerabilities. They both know that isn't happening. 

"Because you don't have any consequences or your actions and therefore no incentive to care?" Vincent frowns, more of a guess than anything. Based on economic theory given how little he knows about Adrian. He would have guessed better, but he can't take his eyes off Adrian's ankles. They're exquisite. 

"Wrong," Adrian shakes his head. "I told you being gay is the clue didn't I?" 

Vincent's eyes widen slightly. "You don't care because... the consequences are the same because it's all circumstantial. You haven't been expelled for anything you've done, it's been outside your control. So it doesn't matter what you do, you get moved schools anyway," 

"Bingo!" Adrian snaps his fingers to signal Vincent's victory. 

"That makes sense," Vincent watches Adrian shove the joint bac into his mouth. He can't see his eyes, but they're probably red. Adrian holds it out. 

"Want to smoke? There's absolutely no pressure, if it isn't your thing that's fine," he holds it out, tantalising in his apathy. 

"No, it is, but..." 

"Yeah," Adrian nods, putting it back between his lips. 

Vincent checks his phone - ten minutes until the next class. They've been out here for half an hour? "We'd better get back inside," 

"Our last class is different, there's no point in staying," Adrian swings his bag over his shoulder. 

"Aw, you rely on me that much already?" Vincent teases. 

"Fuck you," Adrian grins, taking out his phone. "Can I get your number?" 

Vincent recites it from his phone. He then asks for Adrian's number and the latter has his memorised. Vincent inserts it into his phone. 

"Um," Adrian stands awkwardly on one foot. "Do you wanna... hug goodbye or...?" 

_Fuck Adrian, you idiot! He just met you, of course he doesn't -_

The blue-haired boy quickly pulls him into a tight, strangely intimate hug. Their hair entangles, smells combine. Vincent smells of dark oak wood, freshly and lovingly sanded. Adrian smells as expected. The hug breaks before too much of Adrian's scent seeps into Vincent and people ask questions. 

"Well, I'm off!" Vincent watches as Adrian books it over the fence, using his height and agility to its full advantage, despite being clearly lacking in the strength department. 

Vincent goes to assembly. 

* 

Vincent sighs, setting his bag down on the couch after removing his shoes. His mother emerges from the kitchen to greet him. "Good afternoon love, your father is in his study," she answers his expectant question, sending a fleeting glance at the ceiling. "Best stay down here and don't disturb him," 

She returns to the kitchen and Vincent sits on the couch, watching YouTube on his iPhone X with his headphones in, ensuring Cedric doesn't hear a thing. 

Dinner is eaten quickly and in silence, as always. Cedric quips terse questions at Vincent between pages of the Financial Times. _Get a subscription, old man. Who reads newspapers anymore?_

"I made a better friend today," Vincent states, knowing his father isn't listening. 

"Oh, that's lovely dear, who is it?" Claudia smiles. 

"Adrian," 

"Oh, nice name. Not Adrian Crevan though?" She asks with worry. 

"I don't know his surname, why?" Vincent's curiosity peaks. 

"As long as it isn't Adrian Crevan, I've heard of that family. They owned a chain of funeral parlours," she explains the seemingly innocuous details of the family, leaving out Vincent's most important inquiry - why she doesn't like them. 

After dinner, Vincent retires to his bedroom to make as much noise as he wants. He calls Diedrich and predictably, he answers in fewer than two rings. 

_"I thought you'd be calling your new boyfriend,"_ Diedrich spits down the phone at him. 

"He isn't my boyfriend" Vincent glares mockingly at the empty bedroom. "Don't get jealous, he's just interesting," 

Diedrich scoffs down the phone. He knows Vincent, that's the highest honour he can bestow upon someone. 

_"He's insufferable, you shouldn't be interested in him,"_

"Maybe you'd feel differently if you hadn't spent two minutes with him, without even engaging," 

Vincent's voice is commanding, crushing any rebuttal Diedrich may have had. 

_"Well... I can understand why you find him so interesting. His name on Google is rather-"_

"Don't tell me!" Vincent laughs. "It's cheating if Google tells me. I need to figure him out," 

The smoky, tall boy with silver hair, alabaster skin, oh and _those ankles_. Vincent physically covers his mouth to prevent a squeal, and a demand for Diedrich to 'Tell me everything!' 

After he hangs up, Vincent stares at the blank screen of his phone. He can't Google Adrian, that'd be cheating. But the 'Crevan' family is fair game, he doesn't even know if they're affiliated with Adrian! And no matter if they are or not, at least it'll satiate his curiosity a little until tomorrow when he can see the grim reaper once again. Grim reaper - the name fits Adrian. 

He types 'Crevan funeral homes' into the search bar, careful not to type 'Adrian Crevan', for that would be a truly heinous breach of the challenge. 

**_Crevan Funeral Parlour burns to the ground, killing owners Clement and Amanda Crevan. Eight-year-old son left orphaned._ **

The picture depicts a man with shining silver hair standing tall with his glamorous wife, The owners, just recently pronounced dead. In the woman's arms sits a lost looking child. There aren't any scars, but it's unmistakably Adrian. 

Vincent lies back on his bed, staring at the ceiling with a delirious smile. 

"Adrian Crevan, how interesting," 


	2. Inferring Infallibility

The reports of the fire are vague, but most elude to arson. he stories derail themselves near the end, posing wider questions about what's going to happen to the business next, or the child, who the newspaper confirmed to be named Adrian. Some of the questions are even epistemological, things like **_'And how can we ever know what happened here, when our only report lies in the hands of the police, unreleased and concealed beneath layers of bureaucracy?'_** ' At least they admit their own biases.

Vincent has become obsessed with reading about the fire, staying up until 0200 scouring forums about it. The consensus is arson, however, there are several suspicious elements to it - that they couldn't find an accelerant in the aftermath, for one.

He doesn't actually expect Adrian to answer at 0200 but decides to text him anyway. He ponders what to write for a moment, not wanting to divulge his deception through cheating at his deductions.

 _ Vincent:  _ _I know you won't get this until the morning, but I just wanted to say hi_

However, as he motions to put his phone down to get some much-needed sleep, as he forces his eyes open, Adrian texts back.

 _ Adrian:  _ _Hi, what's up?_

Adrian also texts in full sentences with proper grammar. They have so much in common!

_Vincent: I asked first._

_ Adrian:  _ _Fine. I'm lying here pissed cause you just woke me up. Happy?_

 _ Vincent: _ _Very._

 _ Adrian:  _ _You know you're insufferable?_

 _ Vincent:  _ _Indeed. I wanted to know if you'd given me a fake number, but it seems not._

 _ Adrian:  _ _Can you call? Typing when you're tired suuuuucks._

Vincent listens to the sound of his father snoring from the other room. The walls are thick, and nobody can hear him underneath his blanket. He presses the call button on Adrian's number, and Adrian picks up immediately.

 _"Morning, since it's morning,"_ he greets snidely.

"Sorry for calling so late. I guess people don't stay up as late as me," Vincent whispers in the cave creates by his duvet. No chance anyone will hear him like this.

_"It's whatever, I'll just sleep in tomorrow. So what do you want anyway?"_

"I already said that. Don't you listen?"

_"If that was all you wanted, you'd fuck off when I confirmed it was me. What do you really want?"_

How can Vincent say 'I just wanted to talk' when he's too proud to even admit his history with Diedrich?

"Are you coming to school tomorrow?" Both know it's a request.

Adrian sighs dramatically. _"Oh okay... "_

Little does Vincent know he was already planning on it. Just to see the blue-haired incubus. He doesn't want to admit it either, but Vincent is an addiction and he probably knows it.

_"Ugh, goodnight. Don't wake me up again,"_

The line falls dead.

*

In school the next day, Adrian finds Vincent at the gate waiting for him. "Couldn't keep away?" he accuses, even if it's the opposite: he's the one addicted to Vincent.

Vincent ignores him, leading him through the school doors. "There's a place we can be alone, if you want,"

Adrian's explorations yesterday fell short of discovering such a place, so he accepts. They go to the business and computing corridor, where Vincent spends most of his class time. The staircase there is the least busy of all, since it leads onto to these subjects and most people come from the science corridor anyway. Adrian looks around, evaluating it.

"I like this," the windows overlook the main gate, but few people pass by there during class time anyway.

"I know," Vincent confirms, sitting on the stairs and hanging his bag between his thigh, Adrian doing the same. "So you just got kicked out of your old schools cause you're gay? Isn't that illegal?"

"It was a little more nuanced than that," Adrian admits. "But if you wanna be reductive, sure,"

Vincent raises his eyebrows in surprise at Adrian's acceptance of those who seem not to respect him. "So what _did_ happen?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who refuses to answer mine," Adrian smirks. calmly pulling a pack of tobacco from his pocket. He rolls a normal tobacco cigarette.

"Alright then, you get one clue, since you gave me one," Vincent proposes the compromise.

"What question could I possibly have for you?" Adrian shrugs and takes a drag. He crushes the cigarette under his hand, staring at the flickering ashes that refuse to die. "You haven't told me anything about yourself... though I am curious about your father,"

"My father?" Vincent frowns, impressed by Adrian's perceptiveness. Not in a good way. "Why?"

"You told me yesterday how much you fear your parents, I'm betting it's your father," Adrian grins at Vincent's visible confusion. "You didn't think I wouldn't figure it out? 'Phantom hive', the old-money aristocracy pricks who haven't given up their fancy titles. Or their exploitative, historically illicit company,"

"You got me, oh no," Vincent raises his hands in mock surrender. "You want to talk about illicit companies, _Adrian Crevan_?"

Adrian acts quickly, standing up and grabbing Vincent by the shirt collar. He drags Vincent closer, their eyes a reflection of one another's. Golden and chartreuse.

"If you intend on starting a fight, Adrian, you'd better throw the first punch," Vincent smirks. "And make it a good one,"

It takes Adrian a couple of seconds to understand, until he giggles to himself and releases his hold on Vincent's collar. "Cringe emo," he shakes his head as Vincent smooths down his wrinkled shirt collar. "But really - don't call me Adrian Crevan. I've changed my surname and I'm gonna change my first name the second I get out of here,"

"Well what name do you want to go by?"

"Legally? Adrian Spears. But I'd enjoy the title 'Undertaker' someday,"

"Undertaker," Vincent hums, holding his chin in thought. "Yes, it suits you,"

"I appreciate your approval," Adrian smirks.

He looks at Vincent expectantly, and the latter realises his mistake. "Right, my father..." what can he tell Adrian that wouldn't give away too much?

"What are your parents' names?" Adrian offers him help.

"Cedric and Claudia Phantomhive," Vincent answers reluctantly, an internal groan escaping his lips.

Adrian smirks. "I love those names,"

"I hate them!" Vincent exclaims, dropping his face in his hand. "They're terribly old-fashioned!"

"At least they named you something people are actually still called this century," Adrian supposes. "Imagine you'd been named Cedric Phantomhive the 2nd?"

He lets out an exclamation and his head collapses on Adrian's shoulder. Talking about his father is exhausting.

"And you feel trapped in his shoes, in a life cycle you never wanted that your family goes through simply due to traditions?"

Vincent doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't respond. It's the only response Adrian needs.

"Yes, well... you're smart enough to escape it,"

"Sometimes it feels hopeless," he admits.

"Yeah, I'd think so," Adrian laughs, stepping away from Vincent who wavers a little. He looks past the shorter boy. "You have an appointment,"

"What?"

Adrian nods behind Vincent, who spins to see Diedrich standing there, his arms crossed grumpily. Diedrich is taller than both of them, standing in an intimidating stance to which Adrian pays no mind.

The tallest among them narrows his eyes. "Vincent, we have double business and we're barely making the bell,"

Just as the last word utters his mouth, it rings.

"Come on," he grabs Vincent's hand, dragging him determinedly towards the business corridor.

"Bye, Vincent," Adrian waves him off, but he's already beyond the doors.

Adrian wonders what to do now, he doesn't have any sciences until next period. It's too boring staying here so he goes to the library. It's a small room, feeling claustrophobic with its cluttered tables and bookshelves with only narrow aisles to walk between.

Adrian finds a computer to sit at. "Shit, I'm not on the system yet," He walks down the aisles instead, finding a horrifically disappointing science selection. Instead, he finds a tiny but solid manga shelf and grabs a copy of _Death Note_ , Volume 2. Volume 1 is nowhere to be found.

Sitting at a random table, he reads in isolation.

Finally, the bell rings signalling the beginning of biology with Vincent. He puts the manga back on the shelf without marking it, already knowing the plot, and walking the long way to the science corridor.

He finds Vincent outside business, taking his seat beside him. "How was business? Packed full of fun no doubt?" he scoffs and leans on his hand.

"Adrian, the register says you aren't here," his teacher frowns. Oh, so he is on the system now.

"Well, I'm here,"

"Well, were you somewhere else for the last class?" the teacher scratches his head, staring at his monitor.

"No," The boy stares at his paper, wondering when they can get to the lesson.

Vincent raises his hand. "I was with him before the first class, he was here,"

"Oh, okay..." The teacher sighs and marks him here, beginning the lesson after that tedious delay.

Vincent observes Adrian in business. He's fun, yet studious and makes his notes, listening intently to the teacher between interludes of conversation. He was like that in English too, Vincent remembers.

"You honestly enjoy science, don't you?"

"Hm?" Adrian looks up from his intense concentration, chewing on his pen. The work, not Vincent, is still in his mind. Vincent repeats his question.

"Are you kidding? Of course, I do," he stares back down at the paper. "It's all so interesting..."

A special interest, as Vincent has. Except his interest is the natural sciences, Vincent's the human mind.

"I do too, well the soft sciences. Psychology and stuff,"

Adrian rolls his eyes "Testing if kids like marshmallows and shit?" He smiles and shakes his head. "Nah, just joking. Psychology is... fun,"

Dissecting fresh, formalin-flavoured corpses is better.

*

"You haven't asked about my scars," Adrian thinks aloud when the group sit together for lunch once again.

"I'd prefer to figure that out myself," Vincent states.

"I wouldn't!" Grell gasps. "Can we ask about your scars?"

"Go ahead,"

"What happened?!"

"Not telling," he smirks. He notices that Grell tends to shout everything she says.

"You said we could ask!"

"I didn't say I'd tell,"

As so begins a guessing game of how Adrian get his scars that lasts until the end of lunchtime.

"You fell off a slide!"

"No,"

"Um... got attacked by a dog?"

"Nope,"

"You-!"

The bell rings and they disperse, Adrian promising to meet with Vincent again after school.

"But we had plans," Diedrich frowns.

Vincent sighs, thinking internally. "They weren't concrete. Just hang out with Adrian and I,"

"I-"

"Don't like him. I know,"

*

After school, Vincent, Adrian and the reluctant Diedrich walk to Hyde Park. Adrian kicks over a bin when they arrive.

"There's nothing to do in this fucking city!"

"There are plenty of interesting things if you know where to look," Vincent flashes him a smile with his eyes, winking discreetly.

"Why are you winking?" Adrian smirks, ruining Vincent's discretion. Not that someone so dramatic had any anyway.

Vincent flashes a dark grin at Adrian. "Shut up, you suck,"

"Dick? Yes, you're right," Adrian cackles loudly.

"If you two are finished _flirting_ ," Diedrich accuses tersely, accentuating 'flirting' as if to embarrass them. "What are we doing here?"

"Being bored," Adrian shrugs. He stands up on his bench, bouncing on the wooden frame to try and break it. Forcing all his weight on the centre of those beams.

"There's - nothing - to - fucking - do!" he jumps between each word.

As expected, the beams collapse under him. He falls through, crashing forward and toppling over the front beam. If Vincent hadn't caught him, he'd faceplant.

Vincent's arms rest under his for a moment, holding him tightly. Adrian lifts up to support himself in Vincent's arms, becoming more of a hug than a rescue. Vincent's hair brushes softly against his, acting as the luxurious comfort from the rest of the world, which Adrian is falling through. Falling, and falling...

"Y-You're hurting me," Adrian grunts, finding his feet between the beams. The sharp edges and splinters have fucked up his legs, he feels the throbbing wounds, stinging. A cold trickle of blood drips down his leg, but his trousers hide it.

"You're hurting my eyes," Diedrich scowls, turning his head and making a big show of backing away when Adrian lights a cigarette. "And my lungs,"

"I can get rid of it, no problem," Adrian assures. "Seriously, if it makes you uncomfortable it's not an issue,"

"Please do," Diedrich coughs into his hand.

Adrian still the burn and places it back in the packet for later, sending a look of concern to Vincent. Adrian doesn't care what people think of him. At all. Except for Vincent, and by extension... _will Vincent not like me if Diedrich doesn't?_

"Stop being so wet, you said it yourself you understand why I'm interested," Vincent reminds his friend, sitting on the now broken bench. "If you have an issue with Adrian, it's best we get it sorted now. I'm certainly not picking sides,"

Diedrich's eye twitches as he regards the boy standing before him. Sort out my issues? he scoffs internally, but he was never good at disobeying Vincent.

"Fine, yes I have a problem with you. You- You're bad for him!" Diedrich clenches his fist, torn between his need to please Vincent and his protective desires.

Vincent stares at Diedrich for a few seconds. He wonders how serious this really is, a personal oxymoron indicative of his psychology. "You can't be serious, you think I can't protect myself? You think I'm that mentally weak?"

"No..." Diedrich sucks air in through his teeth. The reason his likes Vincent, the main reason, is his independence of any system or individual. Nevertheless, here he is trying to protect him from an imaginary threat. "I- I didn't mean to infer-"

"Hey," Adrian interrupts him, his tone screaming 'I win' but the look in his eyes something different: something altruistic. "Wanna walk to the Royal Concert Hall? There might be something worth sneaking into,"

"What? Oh, fine," Vincent doesn't like music much, but he's grateful for the distraction anyway. He always thought Diedrich revered him unconditionally, but perhaps he's been too careless in his displays of infallibility.

Adrian and Vincent walk to the concert hall, making random conversation. Diedrich follows, reluctantly and ashamedly.


	3. The Anatomy of a Coffin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to put a small warning here - mild innuendos between underage characters. Nothing sexual happens, and nothing sexual will happen for the duration of this book. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :) Please leave a comment if you have any ideas, or feedback.

The concert hall is abandoned, as one would expect on a Monday evening. The trio wander aimlessly around the stretch of land surrounding it, the car park, further into the roads. It's isolated, providing an enjoyable solitude that all three are grateful for. Adrian lights a joint.

"Aren't you worried about the police?" asks Diedrich. "If not for yourself, for us!"

The taller boy stares at Vincent's legs, his expression analytical but with underlying tones of naughty lust. "He looks like he can run rather fast. And as for you, well... I don't much care,"

Diedrich scowls with incredulity. "This is private properly, they have every right to call the police on us!"

"Who?!" Adrian spreads his arms wide and gestures to the vast, empty park, then steps closer to Vincent, almost brushing his hand through Vincent's hair. He glances back at Diedrich with a challenging, amused expression in the knowledge that the tallest of the group is the most powerless. "Nobody is here, you fuckin' tool!"

Vincent hangs back a little, pouting up at Diedrich with large eyes, calculated to be cute. "It's alright, I promise,"

He takes Diedrich's hand, a friendly gesture. Adrian notices but isn't disheartened, understanding how close they are, and suspecting how much history they have. Diedrich must be on Level 99 Friend Zone by now, especially since Vincent knows exactly how he feels while refusing to entertain his delusions. Even using them to his advantage, like now, to make Diedrich calm down.

"I know you trust me, but I also know you're anxious," Vincent speaks slowly, with consideration. "Try to have fun with us, let your hair down and stop being so uptight, it might make me like you more,"

Adrian scoffs - that'll never happen. But if it gets the annoying prude to shut up, a little manipulation is just fine with him.

"Adrian, can I ask you something?"

"You already did, that's a question." The taller boy laughs at Vincent, who stands his ground, unwavering. "But yeah, you can always ask me anything - honestly, it's fine..."

Like Diedrich, he also feels the need to say more than what's necessary, verging on apologising for his feelings.

"There's no way we can go to my place, but..." his parents, especially his father, would never tolerate having friends over. "Can we come over to your place? It's strange to ask, I know,"

"Umm..." Adrian reaches up, running his fingers through his hair, spinning it around his index finger and releasing it in neurotic repetition. What can he say, when Vincent smiles at him so dazzlingly, but yes? "I... okay, that- okay..."

"Fantastic!" Vincent claps, a sound that cuts through the air, shattering the oppressive silence of solitude.

Adrian finishes smoking before they leave. Good thing he does, as they pass a police car on the adjacent street. If any of them were to attract the police's attention, it'd be Diedrich by how intensely his body shudders whenever a car passes. And he isn't even the high one.

"They could be undercover!" he insists upon Vincent's questioning.

When they arrive in his neighbourhood, Adrian exhales deeply, beginning to shake. _Don't panic, don't panic!_

His attack lasts the remainder of the journey, his legs moving on their own autopilot. Of course Vincent notices, and of course he pretends he doesn't. He feels like Adrian wouldn't want Diedrich to know about his panic attack or how anxious he is. Maybe Adrian is more threatened by Diedrich than he presents. Vincent says nothing, a smile playing on his lips. _How amusing_ _, their little rivalry_ _._

Adrian opens the door with his own key, taking a second to steady his feet.

"William!" he calls through the house. No one answers, the darkness staring back at him threateningly.

"Nobody home, he must be working overtime," _Haha, that'll piss him off._

Vincent finds the light swtich, flickering on the lights. He looks around, face dropping in disappointment. "This is very... minimal..."

"It's terrible, I know. But he has OCD in the worst way. Would you like some tea?" Adrian leads them to the kitchen, just as minimalist and freshly cleaned. He presses the button, and leans against the counter. Staring between Vincent and Diedrich awkwardly, he sets up cups. "How d'you like your tea?"

Diedrich likes it plain black. Vincent, with two tea bags for extra strength.

Suddenly, Vincent speaks up. "This doesn't represent you at all," he waves a hand, dismissing Adrian. "This is boring, it isn't why I came here,"

Adrian shamefully bites his lip, grinding his teeth against it. A distraction from Vincent is what he needs.

"Show me your bedroom," Vincent orders.

"M-my bedroom?!" Adrian whimpers. "It's not, um..."

"I don't care how clean or dirty it is, take me," Vincent knows he won't - _can't_ \- refuse an order.

Vincent smiles slyly and stretches to his tiptoes, whispering in Adrian's ear "Or do you want to test me?"

"Well, fine." The taller boy growls back, slamming his teacup on the counter.

With a stride more powerful than his will, Adrian leads them upstairs. His bedroom door is a matte black, buried under several layers of paint. Thick, brash strokes are evidently defined. He pushes it open with a deafening creak.

Diedrich gasps and even Vincent flinches when he sees it. In the centre of the cluttered room sits a velvet-lined coffin. Black oak? An import from America, Vincent supposes. Its insides spill out over the bones, crimson bloodied organs of limp fabric. The bowels sit at the bottom of the black depth.

"This is..." Vincent delicately run his fingers along the sharpened edge. "Exquisite,"

_Just like you, Adrian._ He looks around, back at the taller with eyes dancing in intrigue. Those eyes are just as captivating to Adrian as his coffin is to Vincent. They make eye contact, caught in a silent exchange of loud thoughts.

_Why the coffin?_ Vincent smiles.

_Vincent, I can't tell you about this._ _That's cheating._ _Why did you insist on coming here?!_

Their eye contact breaks. Vincent surveys the remainder of the room, impressed. "Now _this_ looks like you, Adrian,"

Diedrich fixates on the most unusual items; candles, coffin, old books buried under layers of dust. Actually, this entire room is buried underneath dust. "Do you think you're a vampire or something ?" he asks with disdain.

"Who's to say I'm not?" Adrian laughs. "No, I don't think I'm a vampire,"

"Then why-?"

"High quality, and soft..." Vincent strokes the intestines of the coffin.

"Silk, of course," he mimics Vincent's accent.

"I know, why so expensive? And how can you afford it?"

Diedrich stiffens, standing by the door. He watches them interact with jealous frustration - tortured under his masochistic desire to keep watching.

"William - my foster dad - hates his job, but they make him work so much paid overtime cause of staffing issues, I guess," he shrugs. "He makes more money than he needs, cause he doesn't buy anything. He gives it all to me instead,"

"That's how you can afford all this - and the drugs,"

"That and my inheritance," Adrian laughs, throwing his head back and lying in his coffin. The tall boy stares up at Vincent with a twitching grin.

"It's really so comfortable," he wriggles in excitement, the feeling of the silk shooting waves of pleasure through him. Like being attracted to his own bed, or perhaps the boy looking down at him while he lies here. "Why don't you join me?"

Vincent does enthusiastically, sliding into the coffin with elegant movements. His hands trail across Adrian's sides, their bodies forced together by the confines of the coffin. Adrian's shirt rides up just a little, untucked form his trousers, letting Vincent dance his finger across the flesh.

"If you two are quite finished," Diedrich leers form his spot at the doorway, observing with vitriolic eyes. Enraged, he strides from the room, clenching his fist, shaking it to prevent himself punching the wall of this house that isn't even his.

"You two are insufferable!" No, it's just Adrian. He's the one who tempted Vincent, an incubus drawing him to the depths of depravity and away from who is really good for him - Diedrich.

"You really are jealous, aren't you?" Adrian appears by the door, leaning against it and smirking with amusement. He chuckles. "You can join us if you like - I don't mind, even if you aren't my type,"

"I'm not gay," Diedrich insists. "And neither is Vincent!"

"Are you in denial or do you just not want to tell me? It's not like I can use it as leverage," Adrian shakes his head, honestly perplexed. Both Vincent and Diedrich claim their non-association with homosexuality and yet they've all but admitted their previous affairs. "Why are you both so... weird about this?"

He looks back into his bedroom, at Vincent still in the coffin. Unused to speaking so plainly, Adrian finds himself lost between these two places - what he knows is true, and what Vincent tells him is true. Vincent, who he trusts is always lying.

"I _liked_ Diedrich," Vincent admits flippantly. "But that's all. I can't base my entire sexuality on one boy I liked, someone I've always known and feelings I don't understand,"

Vincent isn't good with feelings, neither is Diedrich. Adrian can relate in a much more anxious way.

"So you're both saying you don't know," he smiles softly, realising they both simply declared 'I'm not gay' rather than 'I'm straight'. He realises this is his mistake, and suddenly stabs of shame pierce through his chest, ripping through his lungs. "I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't understand..."

Vincent laughs, feeling that his kinship with Adrian has developed. Before, there was a divide to cross, a hierarchy of 'Vincent knows everything about me, I just need to assume everything about him,' which perhaps he perpetuated. That was his fault, turning a relationship into a challenge. Not that Adrian will have to deduce any less about him now - he's not giving answers that easily, rather removing irrelevant questions.

"Hey... D'you want to... read something?" he offers, intrigued by Adrian's selection.

Diedrich picks a random book from the shelf, inspecting its dust-covered cover. The book, maybe decades-old, is falling apart in his hands. "I didn't take you for an Omar Khayyam reader,"

"Well that's your mistake," Adrian smirks, watching Diedrich page through his copy.

On one of the pages, ' _Pilmico Academy Library, books lost or damaged will be replaced at students' cost'._

"Did you steal this?!" Diedrich demands with irrational anger.

"What? No, check the date stamp dumbass, it's a 1916 copy," Adrian points it out and declares with pride. "My foster dad went there, he must've stolen it,"

Diedrich surveys the bookshelf. "How many of these did you actually buy?"

"All of them, just probably not form their original sources," he explains, feeling like he's talking to an outraged child.

"You're both so boring, we aren't sitting around discussing books all night," Vincent decides with finality.

"All night?" Adrian asks.

"Well, do you want us to leave?" Vincent asks with amusement.

"What about your parents?" Adrian's eyes flicker between the two. Their height difference is much more prominent without him between them as a mediator.

"Mine wouldn't care, my father anyway. And my mother would love for me to have some fun for once at a sleepover," Vincent answers. "And Diedrich, just tell your parents you're at my house,"

Diedrich nods, taking out his phone and dialling them.

"Pass the weed," Adrian whispers, but Vincent sends him an icy glare that shuts him up. So there are stakes with Diedrich's parents too. Adrian sometimes forgets what parents are like.

"Well, I'm changing. This school uniform is uncomfy as fuck," In front of them both, he begins to change.

"You can pick some of my clothes too if you don't mind them fitting fucked up,"

Vincent cannot bring himself to pick clothes, he only stares at Adrian's body. Stuck in the turmoil of arousal, his eyes glide across each deep, penetrative scars on his arms and torso. Some deeper than others, darker but all the same texture and consistency, likely given to him in the same night.

Adrian kicks off his trousers, hoping neither notices how awkward he does so. Diedrich is hiding behind his hands, his face blushing the dame shade as Adrian's coffin. But through his hair, Adrian watches Vincent's reaction.

Vincent's eyes are glued to his scars. The scars trail up Adrian's legs too, creating a map to... _Holy fuck_. In his boxers, his limbs look longer and smoother, his legs... shouldn't have this effect. Standing in his boxers, Adrian is almost naked. He only puts on the thinnest pyjama trousers before declaring himself re-dressed.

Vincent's eyes then stick to his v-line.

Adrian stares back at him, quirking an eyebrow. "Vincent... clothes?" he gestures to his wardrobe before turning to Diedrich. "William's room is next door, you're probably his size,"

"I'm fine," Diedrich insists. He isn't leaving them alone for any reason.

Adrian unties his hair, letting it fall across his shoulders, down his back. His ponytail is sexy, but this is... something else. There's a sense of freedom in Adrian that Vincent latches onto, is ensnared by.

Equally, all Adrian wants is for Vincent to notice him. If this is what's needed... _and he must know what I'm doing._ He sits on his coffin and crosses his legs again, sitting back to expose everything, for real this time. His authentic self, provided he doesn't have to answer any scar-related question's.

Adrian dares to look at Vincent. He isn't giving him away, only searching Adrian's wardrobe for something he can wear. This isn't his style - for one, there's no brown or sea green. He lingers for a second, letting Adrian stare at him in this compromising position.

"This is adequate," He motions to dress into the dark, striped button-up and jeans. Diedrich grabs his shoulders and steers him out the room, vehemently refusing to let him undress in front of Adrian.

"Aww, you're so mean!" Vincent whines, walking to the bathroom.

Adrian sighs, standing up and walking over to Diedrich. Indifferent about the height and power difference, he backs Diedrich against his bedroom wall.

"Trying to control Vincent is only going to drive him away," he warns slyly. "I don't mind you - but please, for the sake of your friendship, don't act like you know what's best for him,"

"What would you know about it?" Diedrich growls.

"I know what it's like to be abandoned - that's what you think Vincent's doing, right?" He remembers the first time he got lost in Vincent's eyes. The second he teacher pointed him out to Adrian. "Well guess what? He isn't - if you drive him away, that's on you. Not Vincent and not me,"

He smiles and lets Diedrich go. "Now you'd better get clothes - William's bedroom is next door. Be back before Vincent's done, or I might take advantage!"

After a contemplative second, Diedrich runs out the room leaving Adrian to collapse, laughing into the guts of his coffin.


	4. I Believe You

The next day, Adrian doesn't want to get ready and go to school. But Vincent - and mostly Diedrich - insist upon it. Vincent doesn't have any classes with Adrian at the beginning of the day, but they do meet at break.

"Do you seek truth, Adrian?" Vincent asks.

"I prefer to admire from the sidelines," He turns to grin at Vincent. "It's more fun that way,"

"I have to disagree. You're too passive," Vincent shakes his head. "You watch the world pass by and take no action. Doesn't that feel shitty?"

"You clearly haven't been about to learn enough about me, but you're trying," Adrian chuckles and stubs out his cigarette. "I don't want to look for answers, I'm content without them,"

"Then why do you question me?"

Adrian pauses for a moment, feeling like he's duped himself. He's perfectly aware that the mind can have two contrasting ideas, but explaining that sounds like a cop out - the confession of cognitive dissonance. "Do you ever want to try dating again?"

Vincent smirks and stands up, wandering a few feet away from Adrian. He turns back, looking over his shoulder, his body streamlined so elegantly. "Now who's looking for truth?"

Adrian looks away angrily. "It's not that deep,"

He stands up too, tearing his eyes from Vincent and focusing on the blank wall. It isn't enough to cool the heat he feels in the most inconvenient place. "What class is next? Biology? Let's go,"

Vincent laughs at the feeble attempt to dodge the question but follows Adrian anyway, acting on impulse of desire to be close to him.

The taller boy saunters back into school. Vincent watches him walk, watches his legs.

Biology is uneventful.

*

They sit at their usual table in the cafeteria, Diedrich eating in during silence while Adrian and Grell talk and laugh like children. Vincent simply watches, observing Adrian's mannerisms, his behaviours, looking for indication of something. He watches Diedrich too, flattening his hair with his hands, ensuring he looks perfectly presentable since he refused to share Adrian's hairbrush with Adrian and Vincent.

Vincent, feeling devious, ruffles Diedrich's hair, making it stick up in its unwashed state.

"Hey!" The tallest of the group pulls out his phone, obsessively fixing the strands in its mirror.

Grell giggles and grabs Diedrich's arm. "Finally, my style expertise comes to use," she drags him off to the bathroom to properly fix his hair.

"You asked if I wanted to start dating again," Vincent raises a challenging eyebrow at Adrian, now they're alone.

"Tch - so what? It was just a question,"

"Why are you angry?" The shorter boy pushes, trying to stir up a frenzied knot of emotion in Adrian. Adrian knows exactly what he's doing, yet remains powerless.

Adrian rips into a steak lathered in salt, like his teeth are sharp as Grell's. It's mostly to avoid talking.

Vincent gets up from his seat and crashes into Adrian's lap instead, draped over him like a poncho. Adrian raises his eyebrows a bit in surprise and blinks. He didn't expect Vincent of all people to do that, yet it's entirely fitting that he would. He wraps his arms around Vincent's shoulder, pulling him close. He feels like a human trapped into place by the sleeping cat on their lap.

"Mine," Vincent pokes Adrian's forehead, brushing away some of his hair to reveal dazzling eyes that sparkle like neon signs. If only he was angled a little differently, then he'd feel something pressed against his stomach.

Before he can say or do anything else, he feels a tap on his shoulder. An irate teacher stands over them.

"Excuse me," he looks flustered, Adrian thinks it's funny. "It's one person per chair,"

"Sorry," Vincent, not sounding sorry at all, slides off Adrian's lap and back to the seat beside him.

Adrian is trapped in stunned confusion for a moment, his hard drive struggling to process such a... large file.

Vincent smirks, knowing he's ensnared Adrian in his strange web of sweet nothings. He has every intent on taking advantage of this in whatever way Adrian wants.

Adrian gulps down his dry throat, asking hoarsely. "Why did you do that?"

"But Undertaker, you have to figure that out for yourself,"

Adrian won't hide it, hearing Vincent call him 'Undertaker' sends a strange jolt of euphoria through his mind. Like the name is more fitting than any he's ever had, which he knew it would be but didn't expect to be so excited over it. Too excited to hide, in fact.

"You're just playing with me, fucker," he puts his hand and sleeve over his mouth to conceal the smile he can't get rid of.

"Actually, I'm quite offended. You expect me to deduce you on my own, yet also to answer your questions? Don't you have something of a double-standard?" Vincent winks, watching Grell and Diedrich emerge from the bathroom. He'd hoped she'd fuck up his hair a bit, but alas, it's perfect.

"Of course I have a double standard," Adrian leans back in his chair, revelling in the new freedom his torso and leg have. "Because if you're meant to be so much better than I am at figuring people out, then you have to offer me some hints, and I have to keep challenging you,"

Vincent sips some tea, too weak, from the cafeteria machine. "Well played, Adrian,"

"What is?" Diedrich catches the tail end of their conversation as he sits back down.

"Were you two being all flirty?" Grell winks at Vincent. I did good with delivering this one," she jerks her thumb at Adrian.

Vincent glances up at Diedrich. "Adrian was only asking if I'd consider being in a relationship with someone again,"

"Oh," he knows there's no point in asking Vincent what he said, or trying to figure it out.

Vincent is suddenly very bored. This school is very boring, and the realisation of that, though always quietly simmering, hits him like a train every so often. When the world sharpens slightly clearer.

"I want to skip the next class," he declares. The next class is business.

Diedrich's eyes flicker over Vincent's face, trying with futility to understand his motives. _Does he just want to spend time with Adrian over me?_

"Okay, well let's go so you can register then fuck off," Adrian grins.

"No," Vincent shakes his head. "It's fine. I'll skip without registering,"

"Are you sure?" Adrian bites his lip. "What about your father?"

The shorter boy fixes Adrian with a hard stare, one of a commanding authority who's unused to being questioned. Perhaps Diedrich taught him to be a tyrant.

Adrian holds his hands up, mockingly to hide his very real fear. "Alright, if you want to. But what do you wanna do, where the fuck can we go?"

They end up sitting on the secluded stairwell. Adrian leans against Vincent and reaches into his lap, taking the slender hand in his own. "Your hands are so soft - you bloody moisturise, don't ya?"

Vincent blushes and looks away. "I need to, I play the violin,"

"Oooh, what a pansy!" Adrian raises his voice to falsetto. "The fuck kind of hobby is that?"

Vincent smirks and lifts his head, staring down at Adrian from the step. His imperial shadow casts over Adrian's head. "You can't make fun of me, Undertaker,"

"Yeah, is that cause I'm so my fucked up?" He grins, starting to smoke, leaning back to watch the smoke trickle up to the ceiling.

"Won't the alarm go off?" Vincent asks.

"Pfft no - that's way too high," this stairwell extends three floors high, meaning the smoke alarm is several dozen feet above them. Enough for the smoke to dissolve into the air, it's particles too little for old school alarms to detect.

"In your old school, what was done to you..." Vincent begins, choosing his strange words carefully on this sensitive matter. "It's extents haven't had any long-lasting effects on your sexuality - you're still very gay,"

"I'd rather be gay than change and give them exactly what they wanted," Adrian smiles,

Vincent nods, shifting away from the smoke. For some reason, the drug smoke was easier to handle, cigarettes smell gross.

"They accused me of doing all sorts of freaky gay shit - but I'm a virgin, so they didn't know what they were talking about," he looks over at Vincent, satisfies with himself in the knowledge that Vincent is clearly surprised.

"You're a... virgin?" It's surface level surprise, Vincent didn't really think about Adrian's sex life. But now he's being told about it, virginity doesn't fit with his entire demeanour.

"Surely you must've known?" Adrian smirks, making fun of Vincent this time - a satisfying revenge.

"Didn't you like anyone, have a boyfriend?"

Adrians shrugs. "I didn't fuck anyone though, just wasn't interested in anyone I guess,"

"Oh ok..." The shorter boy stands up, kicking the floor in boredom. Business would have been more fun than this. "How do you do it? Skip class and not go insane with boredom? It's not like you have WiFi or anything to keep you occupied,"

"Oh I've went to the library... but mostly I don't get bored," he chuckles, lighting up another smoke. "Especially with you, or are you bored now because I'm not as interesting as you thought?"

"I'm bored because you aren't providing me with any stimulation! Don't you understand?" Vincent huffs, crossing his arms and pouting.

"Very poor choice of words," he chuckles. "But I get what you mean,"

Vincent stops fidgeting and looks down. "Alright, I'll give you something to play with - I'm not a virgin,"

"And you still don't know your sexuality?" Adrian's scoffs, then pauses, having a grotesque epiphany. "And neither does Diedrich..."

Vincent looks away, trapping his lips shut tightly, grinding his teeth in agitation.

Adrian bursts our laughing, a laugh that shakes the staircase. "We're you both that bad at sex?!"

"Better than you, you're a virgin," he scoffs; trying to save face.

"I have enough self-confidence to know that my partner would know whether or not they're attracted to me after fucking me - and I don't have _any_ self-confidence!" He shakes his head. "But honestly, I don't care about your sex life either, it's the romantic side I'm interested in,"

"Diedrich and I?"

Adrian waves his hand dismissively. "Boring, but I have other questions. Is he the only person you've ever dated?"

Vincent stays silent, still refusing to make eye contact.

"On, you aren't answering me, I have to figure it out," Adrian checks the time on his phone. "Well, some other time, I have to get to chemistry,"

He throws his bag over the shoulder, it's frayed strap tweaking as it struggles to hold the weight of its contents. Vincent watches, terrified the bag is going to burst, or fall off. But it doesn't.

"You actually go to chemistry?" Vincent regains some of his precious hubris, knowing there's a class Adrian actually likes. It's like having an inside joke, a secret. "Can I count on walking home with you?"

"Honestly, I'd love to, but no," Adrian sighs, it hurts so much turning Vincent down - he never thought it possible. "Spend some time with Diedrich and hey some answers from him. I don't know why, something tells me he has more answers than you do on the subject,"

"That's impossible," Vincent denies vehemently.

The taller boy smirks. "I believe you,"


	5. The Ghost of Phantomhive Past

Vincent doesn't often walk home with Diedrich, but to the taller it makes sense: he'd rather walk home slowly with his friend than be at home straight away with only his father to interact with, terrified to make noise. But of course, nothing scares Vincent.

"Diedrich, tell me what you thought of me when we were together," He orders, standing tall to flaunt his hypothetical power.

"You know exactly what I think of you,"

"Still?" Vincent barks a laugh. "You need to get over me for your own sanity,"

But he doesn't really mean that.

Of course, knowing Diedrich's feelings makes Vincent want to hold on to that even tighter. He smirks as he brushes his hand against Diedrich's, giving him the faintest sense of companionship, but drawing it back to make him frustrated with unrequited desire. Vincent feels him quiver at the touch.

Arriving at his house, he turns to face Diedrich. "I do enjoy our time together, you know that?"

Diedrich stares into his eyes, entranced by the hypnotic rhythm of his expression. "I know that,"

He sounds uncertain, moreso than before. Vincent didn't mean to sideline him in favour of Adrian, honestly. However, Vincent admires the novelty of his newest specimen too much to ignore or even move from the forefront of his mind.

"I told you before, Adrian isn't a threat to you,"

Diedrich nods and walks down the stairs, ensuring his feet don't tap against the brick. Would Adrian do that for Vincent, make sure his father can't hear?

Vincent watches Diedrich leave before exhaling deeply, opening the door and entering Hell. Kicking the doormat, he ducks into the living room just as dinner is being set up.

"Perfect timing," Claudia smiles, setting the table that Vincent sits at. "Did you enjoy your sleepover?"

"I never thought I'd like sleepovers," Vincent muses, stabbing the food with his fork. "But I liked that one, a lot,"

"That's fantastic!" Claudia whispers happily, listening for a reaction from upstairs.

Vincent puts down his fork. "Father isn't joining us, then?"

Claudia takes a small sip of wine, neglecting his question. "This boy, did you find out his surname yet?"

"I did, in fact. It's Spears," Vincent states confidently, no indication of a lie except the smile playing on his lips.

His mother thinks for a moment and shakes her head. "No, I don't know the family,"

 _I know,_ Vincent sighs, content with his mother's ignorance, even if he doesn't think she'd mind Adrian much as a person. But she puts too much legitimacy on rumours and would be uneasy if she learned that he's a Crevan.

They eat the rest of their meal silently and when they finish, Vincent creeps upstairs. He falls into his bed and turns on his phone, straight to Adrian's social media. There's a bathroom selfie and one in his coffin, but it could be mistaken for a scarlet bed from this angle. He doesn't like it, doesn't do anything but stare.

 ** _Adrian: Hey_** _,_ the message banner appears at the top of his screen. Vincent quickly clicks on it, is it thirsty to reply right away? He doesn't care, has discovered not caring is worth something.

**_Vincent: Good afternoon._ **

**_Adrian: I saw you were on. Guessing I can't come over?_ **

**_Vincent: You guess correctly._ **

**_Adrian: Too bad, I'm right outside your window._ **

Vincent frowns, rereading the message, in denial of its contents until he hears a sharp knocking at his window pane. Pulling apart his curtains, he finds Adrian hanging there, his hair blowing against the sun. His hands grip the windowsill and his feet lodge against the house' texture.

"This is the third floor!" Vincent gasps, looking down in disbelief.

"I know, so help me in," Adrian reaches out his hand, groaning while Vincent drags him inside.

Adrian topples into the bedroom, making Vincent tense, eyes flicking to his door to entire it's fully closed. It always is, but the paranoia of his father walking in, or just hearing something, is terrifying.

"Stay quiet!" He whispers, putting his hands on Adrian's shoulders. "You should be here, you know it's dangerous!"

"I'll be quiet, I promise," he smiles, even his teeth glistening mischievously.

"I presume you followed Diedrich and I here," Vincent stands back and crosses his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you just walk with us?"

"Seemed like he wanted some privacy with you... besides, you'd have never let me come in,"

 _For good reason_ , Vincent watches as Adrian inspects his room and every object in it with the precision of a scientist. He steps back and seems to absorb the room as a whole.

"You didn't decorate this," Adrian states, turning back to Vincent with a smile.

"Of course I didn't," Vincent sits on his bed, bitterly surveying the nautical-themed bedroom he despises. "No teenager would decorate their room like this, father just has to control everything,"

Adrian stares at a faded picture on the wall drawn in charcoal, a boat floating calmly against the sea with smudged clouds, sitting in a frame. "Do you even know what kind of boat this is?" He points at it with a frown.

"Adrian, I don't know what any kind of boat is, this is all him,".

Adrian circles the room, getting closer and closer to Vincent. He creeps up on Vincent's back and rests his chin in his shoulder. "You need to get the fuck out of here. Come with me,"

Vincent turns to face him ."You know I can't do that,"

"Why not?" he glowers, folding his arms over his chest. "You're sixteen, you can fuck off and stay with me,"

He looks down and grits his teeth - Adrian is being so frustrating. "I can't leave my mother,"

"She can come too, William won't care,"

"Oh Adrian, it isn't that simple-"

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't!" Vincent shouts, immediately clamping his hands over his mouth in terror.

Both boys tense in place, each passing second an eternity. Vincent listens, wide-eyed, for the vacuum of silence to finally shatter, and it does.

The footsteps creep closer, creaking floorboards loudly. Their booming orchestra builds to a crescendo as they approach the door.

Adrian whispers. "Fuck,"

"Hide," Vincent throws him back against the window, helping him clamber out until he grips it only by its sill. Just in time, as with a heavy turn, Vincents door swings open.

Adrian listens. He listens to the screaming, and the thumping, and all manner of other sounds that make his spine shiver. Dewy tears blossom in his eyes as he listens, replacing Vincent's dry cries. He grabs the window, curled up against it, trying to block out the white noise of pain.

The silence lingers for a while, until Adrian looks up and the curtains are pulled apart. Vincent is staring down at him from the window, just staring with eyes glazed over and a ghostly lack of expression. Vincent always has an expression - a smirk, a frown, a pout. Seeing him wearing a white mask of nothing makes him seem like a corpse.

Adrian blinks in surprise, stepping back a little, startled by the ghost of Phantomive Past. He's like a poltergeist creeping around the house, trying to trick him. Adrian is almost suspicious that this is some elaborate revenge plot to get him back for appearing here without permission. But as he runs his eyes over Vincent's bed, Vincent's clothes... that'd be too much effort for someone so lazy to fake.

They sit by the end of the bed and talk. Eventually, light returns to Vincent's eyes.

Adrian smiles and grabs his bag. "I'm off, see ya at school tomorrow?"

"As always," Vincent answers drearily, clambering into his bed and curling up on his side.

The taller teenager is tempted to stay, but knows he must leave. He doesn't want to - _can't_ \- think of lying in bed with Vincent right now, not after Vincent endured that. That'd be simply deplorable. With no further words exchanged, he leaves.

Vincent lies on his back, staring at the ceiling again. Needles of pain shoot through him, as if being injected over and over again across his whole body. Bruises won't form yet, but by tomorrow...

 _It's best I get some sleep,_ he rubs the back of his head, even his pillow feeling like a stone as he rests against it. He never wanted Adrian to see this side of him, of his life. He hasn't even shown Diedrich this part of him, although it was easier with Adrian than he knows it'd be with Diedrich. The latter would report him to social services, regardless of how much Vincent begged him not to. He's already threatened to do so, when they were much younger and he saw bruises on Vincent's legs during PE.

As he faints into a sleep, he realises just how bloody the bed is. He'll have to wash it tomorrow.

*

"I didn't think it was like that... that kind of abuse...!" The tall boy kicks up dirt from the ground, glaring at the splatter on his shoes that have strangely mixed with strange speckles of blood.

"I suppose, what did I expect from an exploitative, capitalist fuck like a Phantomhive?" he shrugs bitterly.

"I'll just go home" he sighs, knowing there's nothing he can do for Vincent if he won't just listen. But then, he knows not everyone like hearing practical solutions, especially when it's an emotional situation and...

He buries his head in his hands. _Ohh, I'm being such a dick right now._

The thin boy pulls out a paper and rolls a blunt, a terrible single-skin that sideburns badly. He walks home, not in any rush, so that it's dark by the time he arrives. Williams car sits idly in the driveway.

With a readying exhale, Adrian steps into the house. "M home," he mutters, lowering his fringe over his eyes.

William appears from the kitchen with a pen in his hand, one of the ones you dip in ink. His hair is dishevelled and he's wearing pyjamas, but his glasses still flash intimidatingly.

"Where were you, it's almost midnight," He holds out his arm with the pen like a knife, preventing Adrian from going upstairs.

"You wouldn't know that if you hadn't stayed up until midnight pretending to have work to do," Adrian pushes down his arm and hops halfway up the staircase.

"I do have work to do!" William insists, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. His eyes are hidden behind their glare, beaming against the overhead light. "I'm grading papers, from the school that kicked you out,"

"You know that wasn't my fault," Adrian pushes his arm down, stomping upstairs, the heels of his boots denting the wood.

"Okay, I know," William sighs, and Adrian turns back around. "I'm sorry, I'm stressed. So much overtime..."

He groans and runs a hand through his hair. "I just want to know where you are - at least some of the time, try to text me so I know you're still alive,"

"Fine, sure," Adrian grumbles, finally reaching his bedroom. Slamming and locking the door, he crashes into bed.

Vincent invades him mind again, as he has every day since they met. He's like a drug, something so addictive he'd do anything for it. He imagines Vincent's eyes, their strange alluring hazel. They're far from the brightest and most captivating part of Vincent's in fact their colour is quite dull, but they have a strange power beyond this realm that controls all who stare into them.

It's a morose kind of love, Adrian thinks, scrolling through Vincent's social media. Like Stockholm syndrome, he's unable to escape the capture of his mind, even mentally. But then his mind reverts to that image of Vincent - that dead, soulless creature more like a corpse than a human. Even with his eyes closed, the picture haunts him.

Saving Vincent from his father is imperative, one way or the other. He thinks he's so independent and can take care of himself - well he can't, he's never been able to. If Diedrich knew anything about the boy he claims to love, he'd have figured that out by now.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" Adrian searches his bookcase quietly, trying to find something on strategy. He should have something inspiring in here. He checks the time , almost one.

"I'm getting zero sleep tonight," he realises, still high energy and just starting the task. Finding something promising, a murder mystery novel about rescuing a kidnap victim, he takes it to his desk to make notes.


	6. Adrian

**4 Years Ago**

12 Year old Adrian Crevan doesn't really 'fit in' anywhere, nor does he need to. Whether it's school or at the children's unit, he doesn't 'get' people. He doesn't care to - doesn't care about anything really. He finds it easy to label himself - knowing he's a punk helps him form his identity somehow. That's why his ears are decorated with piercings. It's also how he knows he's gay despite having done exactly _nothing_ with a guy. He isn't in any rush to fool around with anyone, there isn't anyone his type here. Another label he knows applies to him is 'alone' or 'lonely'. Like said, he doesn't really get people.

Other kids at the children's home get family visits, make friendships. Adrian does none of these. He plans on counting the days until he's finally 16 and can get the fuck out of here because after all, there's no chance anybody's going to foster him. And he doesn't care.

He knows everyone is apathetic to him even if they don't show it. The only people who care about him are the ones who get paid to care. The staff at the home tried to get him to open up, but after a few years they gave up and Adrian is even considering running away for like the fifth time. He could find a cool abandoned building to hang out in and shoplift stuff to sell to buy weed. It's the only fate he envisions for himself, left to the whims of the foster system.

Like most weekends, potential foster parents arrive to take some kids him. Adrian isn't on the foster roll, but is instead up for adoption. Who the fuck would adopt him? He just slams his bedroom door closed and drinks vodka and Pepsi from the Pepsi bottle, mixed to be inconspicuous.

*

William T. Spears awkwardly opens the door to the foster home, calling out for an administrator. She arrives at the door and shakes his hand, stepping aside to let him in. "Mr Spears, we spoke on the phone,"

"Yes, hello," her usually infectious smile has no effect on him. "I was told you have a child here up for adoption. Adrian-Something?"

They talk in the office. She's extremely apprehensive about letting Adrian be adopted, but William assures her he read Adrian's file. He knows about the scars, the mental health issues, the trauma. He knows about the 'behavioural problems' and with a cool air, announces that he doesn't care in the slightest. He never expected adopting to be easy.

The woman leads him to the bedrooms, all identical white doors except for one, with an ancom flag hanging from it. He smiles a little: he's antiwork. Him and this kid will get along well.

"I'll leave you to get acquainted," the staff member smiles and closes the door, leaving William and Adrian in the room together. Adrian looks up from his doodling.

"Where's your clipboard?"

"I'm sorry?" William frowns, confused.

Adrian scowls slightly. "Whenever adults talk to me they have a clipboard. What are you, a psychologist? You look like a psychologist,"

William chuckles, looking at this kid disfigured with scars, clearly growing his hair to hide them. "Actually, I'm a teacher,"

"A teacher?" He narrows his eyes, wondering what a teacher would want with him. He unscrews the Pepsi bottle and goes to swig, when William yanks it from his hand.

"Hey! What the-?"

William quirks an eyebrow, the light from the window creating a frightening sheen hiding his eyes and his intent. "I know the smell of vodka, you're twelve. I certainly won't stand for this behaviour,"

Adrian glares. "And who the fuck are you exactly?"

William opens the Pepsi bottle and with a stern face, downs it right in front of an incredulous Adrian. "My name is William T. Spears. I'm a Business Studies teacher, I used to work in management. I'm - I'm here to adopt you,"

Adrian couldn't hide the shock on his face if he tried. Adopt him?!

"Why don't you tell me some things about yourself?" William asks, aware of how dreadfully monotone his voice is. He must seem like the most boring man in the world and not a fun adoptive parent.

"If I do, can I ask you some things about yourself afterwards?"

"I think that's fair," William agrees. Adrian sighs.

"My name is-... it's Adrian," he looks away, biting his lip. "I like science," is all he can think to say.

William grins, pleasantly surprised this child is an academic. He's starting to like Adrian more and more. "Science is interesting, I never understood much of it though. I liked physics,"

"I'm more of a chemistry person," Adrian shakes his head and his suspicions resurface. "Why are you adopting me? Don't you want some cute little kid?" He challenges.

William sighs, running a hand through his perfectly neat hair. Some of it falls down. "I'm too busy for a younger child. I don't mind a challenge. As for why I'm adopting at all... my life is comprised of my work and my hobbies. I like it that way. I don't have any desire for a partner, but I have always wanted to be a parent,"

William looks up and can tell Adrian isn't satisfied with the answer. He decides he owes it to the kid not to insult his intelligence by being vague. "I'm a teacher. I get the chance to educate. But I've never had the opportunity to actually help any of my students. I remember being institutionalised, I had some... violent tendencies. And no matter how many teachers or psychologists attempt to help, their salary skews it in a resentful light. They don't really care about you. But I've never had the opportunity to care, and I need... I need someone to care about. That could be you,"

Adrian's expression softens at the sacrifice the man just made. Opening up is clearly a challenge for William.

The sweat makes his palms slick, he blinks hopefully. "What do you think, will you accept me as your parent?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Adrian scoffs. Coercion and emotional blackmail, what a fucking wonderful way to adopt someone. _Asshole._

"No," William admits. "I've made up my mind. But I'd like it to be your choice,"

He stands up and walks to the door, but before he can grab the handle, a gritted voice calls "Wait!"

He turns back to the boy, who grits his teeth to hold back. "Yeah, whatever. I don't give a fuck. Adopt me, it's my choice if it means that much to you,"

William hides a small smile as he leaves the room. A sigh of relief escapes him. It's all come together, finally - his life, everything he could ever dream of.

**6 Months Later**

William gets the call before Adrian gets home. The school has 'a lot of time for cases like his' but unfortunately, it's causing 'conflict' in classes and Adrian is decided to be the problem. It's bullshit, he knows it is. It doesn't stop him feeling resentful towards Adrian - why couldn't he just try to get along, to be normal? But that's victim-blaming, he's the one getting bullied.

"What happened?" William asks when Adrian arrives him.

"Fucking bitches," Adrian spits, violently throwing his bag across the living room floor. "Good thing I don't hurt people, with what I know... I could _ruin_ them,"

"What happened?" William asks again.

"Some stupid kids ripped my hood down so I told them to fuck off... and I spat on 'em," he admits, scratching the back of his head, his anger having dissipated. "So they pushed me against the wall and tried to grab my-"

"What the fu- They did what?!" William stands up in a thunderous display of parental rage.

"Relax, they didn't touch me. I ducked out the way," Adrian shrugs, though his eyes hold a kind of sincerity. As if to say ' _Yeah, they tried to grab me and yeah, it scared me,'_

"Now Adrian, I'm going to enrol you in the school I teach at," William raises his hands when Adrian jerks forward in reaction. "Don't worry, you won't see me and I won't get involved. But please, please try not to make waves. Just get in there, do your science and get out. That's all you need to do,"

"Whatever," Adrian flood airily on the couch. "I don't even see the point in school anymore,"

"Well what do you want to do when you're older?" William sits beside him, relaxing he hasn't asked Adrian this yet.

"I don't care,"

"I do,"

Adrian smiles. "Yeah, too much,"

"I care about you, it's the reason I adopted you. You like science, but I can't imagine you in a laboratory, or as a doctor,"

William knows Adrian well enough to deduce that he does care, just has no idea, what he wants to do.

"I have it," he smiles. "An undertaker - a funeral director,"

"What, like my fuckin' shitty bourgeoisie parents?"

"No, you could add your own touch to it. You can make it your own. Be as cooperative as you please with your economy,"

Adrian thinks, and it gets quiet. William worries he said something wrong until Adrian grins. "I do like that idea! But not being a funeral director... no, an undertaker!"

"Those are the same things,"

Adrian glowers darkly, the shadows of his eyes hidden behind his hair. "No they aren't,"

William blinks when he realises those words mean very different things to Adrian. "An Undertaker, it suits you,"

Adrian stares out the window, at the winter darkness encroaching on his afternoon. "I'm going to bed," he states calmly, walking to the door.

"Bed?!" William asks incredulously. "It's only eight!"

"Ive taken you too much of your time, you have soooo much marking you do after all," Adrian winks and starts upstairs.

"Oh and one more thing!"

He looks down, where William is now at the foot of the stairs. "Hm?"

"You're grounded," he shakes his head. "I know you didn't fight back, that's why I'm grounding you. To keep order is to know when to defend yourself. When violence is necessary,"

"Fuck you," Adrian seethes.

William shrugs. "Expected,"

*

Adrian storms into his room and slams the door. What a fucking travesty. Being grounded means his whole weekend is blown to hell. While Adrian would happily hang out and get high in his bedroom, he needs the solitude and freedom of being able to leave and do what he wants. He goes on walks a lot, around forests and riverside pathways, sitting in small clearings to read without being disturbed. And his introverted nature means that being stuck in a house with someone - even William, who barely talks to him even when he is home - is annoying.

"Maybe I should sneak out," he thinks. "At least I don't have to talk to him while I'm stuck in here,"

Adrian finds his bag and fills it with books, a torch, his phone charger and laptop. Without knowing how long he'll be gone for, he figures one box of cookies will be enough. Adrian opens his window as wide as it'll go and clambers down the drainpipe, resting his feet on the top of the window form the floor below. It takes a couple of risky, hit-or-miss moves but it gets him to the ground quicker.

His feet find their ground and he grins, creeping against the wall and running off towards the train station. Nobody will be checking tickets late at night, so he rides for free to the main city and jumps the turnstiles. Adrian can't believe he's out here at night! He's never seen the city like this before, a deep black void defined by strange wisps of neon colours.

A group of teens stand outside a McDonalds, just under the railway bridge of London Central. They're much older than Adrian, and he weaves between them to sit against the wall and light a smoke. 

"Hey, come and look!" someone calls out. "What age are you, smoking like that?" an older boy jeers.

"Fifteen," Adrian lies.

"You're not fucking fifteen," his hair is straight and black. his eyes seem to shine crimson under the overheads. Adrian gives him an indifferent gaze. "Hey, cannabis-kid, give me a smoke,"

Adrian doesn't hesitate to tell him to fuck off.

"I encourage you not to test me," he advances on Adrian, standing over him. Until Adrian gets to full height, and he's slightly taller than him anyway. It doesn't deter the vampire-wannabe. "Otherwise, I'll happily put you in your place,"

"Oh, you will, will you? I'm not wasting my weed so you can pretend to inhale like the wannabe fake-rebel you are just to get a little excitement of escaping your posh, upper-class life funded by your Daddy so long as you fake being straight," Adrian sneers. "Or am I wrong?"

"That's it! You're dead!" the boy slams Adrian against the glass door of the McDonalds and pulls back his fist to punch him. Adrian winces and closes his eyes, but no punch comes. He squints his eyes open and sees William, still dressed like a teacher, caught the kid's fist, and shifted his weight enough to pin him against the wall.

"What the fuck?!" he looks up at William. "Mr Spears?!"

"Nice to see you, Sebastian," William turns to Adrian. "Go to the car and wait,"

"I'm not going back to the car," he grins and watches his adoptive parent acting like a badass against this weird teen.

"Get off of me!" Sebastian kicks at him, but William holds him firmer.

"Maybe, if you calm down, I won't tell the school or your parents that you were out here trying to steal drugs from a child,"

Sebastian relaxes immediately. Adrian enjoys this a lot, even if he's pissed at being called a child. He watches Sebastian limp off on his pained ankle, blushing scarlet at the though of losing a fight to his boring business teacher. Clearly, William is wayyyy out of his lead.

Then Adrian sprints off in the opposite direction, running downhill to the park. If he can get there, he can lose William in the darkness. Until he feels hand dragging back his shirt collar.

"Shit...!" Adrian wriggles in his grip.

"You hate living with me enough to run away?" William walks him back to the car.

"I don't," he looks away. "Shit, you're going to send me back to the home now and revoke the adoption,"

"Makes you really think before you run away, doesn't it?"

"Don't send me back,"

They get in the car, Adrian stares out the window while they drive home. He thinks over his options, but knows he has none. When they get back, he starts upstairs.

"Where are you going?"

He jerks his thumb to his bedroom. Well, not, his anymore. "To pack, where the fuck else?"

"I'm not sending you back," William crosses his arms over his chest.

Adrian scrutinises him, wondering if he's lying. He wouldn't put it past anyone to play such a cruel joke on him. "You're really going to let me stay?" 

William shrugs slightly. "As long as you don't run away again,"

"No promises," Adrian's smirk turns into a grin as he remembers the fear on Sebastian's face. "It would've been funnier if you'd actually beat him up,"

"I was satisfied with him knowing I could beat him up," the slightest hint of a smile appears of his stone face. "I don't suppose he'll be so arrogant in my class on Monday,"

A certain tension appears in the air, Adrian unable to take his eyes off his feet. "I'm - I'm going to bed now,"

"Not going to run away again, or do I need to do Harry Potter and out bars on your window?"

"You're not funny!" Adrian laughs halfway up the stairs. He crashes into bed, feeling like this room is too boring for his tastes. He wants more books, and he wants his bed to be... like a coffin. Yeah, that'd be cool for an undertaker to have. He'll talk to William about it tomorrow but even if h sys no, Adrian has his own money and can get one anyway.

For a while, Adrian just lies there trying to fall asleep, hearing the teacher pace back and forth downstairs. The man is insanely neurotic, as is Adrian. But William has different issues, namely OCD. But everyone has their own issues, really. People just try in vain to generalise them to give the false impression they can be 'cured'.

His alarm clock rings, how long was he thinking for? He presses 'snooze' and rolls over, groaning under his blanket. He hears William come in and looks up, seeing that he didn't get much sleep either.

Adrian smirks. "Who has deeper bags under their eyes?"

"That its fair, yours are hidden,"

Adrian doesn't bother changing from yesterday's clothes and sits at the breakfast table, idly sipping black coffee in a daze.

"You can do whatever you like today, I'm going to the school to do some paperwork," William explains, fixing his hair and shirt.

"See ya!" Adrian waves him off slightly. He picks up his mug and stares at his reflection. He looks over each scar, each strand of hair misplaced, each imperfection. He looks away when he thinks of himself, that this reflection depicts what he truly looks like. Something he wishes was different. He spends a few moments codding out his reflection before drinking the coffee and ultimately destroying it.


	7. Amusing, if Ornery

Diedrich watches silently as his friend enters the doorway. He feels like his heart his being manipulated on puppet strings, with Vincent as the puppeteer. _Was this all a mistake?_ he asks himself. He walks home with his head hanging low, wondering if he really is as gullible as Vincent thinks. He feels numb, as always. He doesn't want to be pushed around by Vincent for the rest of his life, but it's worth it not to lose him.

The boy glances at the house one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Vincent between the curtains, to know he's safe. He decides that the next time he sees Vincent, he'll confess his feelings and kiss him. He must get in first, before Adrian does, otherwise he'll lose his chance with Vincent forever.

He arrives home and flops down onto his bed, feeling the softness of his Egyptian cotton sheets. Anxiety and anticipation spin around inside his head until they spiral into a whirlpool of emotion. _What does Vincent really think of me?_ _Why does he still keeps me around if he has someone so much more his type now?_

Because Adrian is much more Vincent's type. Diedrich tried to be, he really did, but it just isn't him.

"My head hurts," he groans and goes back downstairs to take some Nyquil and fall asleep.

*

Adrian sighs over a plate of waffles buried under spirals of whipped cream. Inside, his heart pounds violently in its prison of his ribcage, his arms shake, hands shuddering in his pockets as he tries to hide it from William. This week, he decided last night, is the week he'll rescue Vincent.

When he finally gets to school, just in time for second period, he's already smoked all his weed and stolen some wine form the fridge. He needs it to get his head around what he plans to do. He doesn't usually smoke in the bathroom, but all he has are his cigarettes. He takes one from its pack and lights it up, twiddling it between his fingers before pressing it against his exposed forearm. It's a long, hard press that embeds the burn deep into his flesh. He'd keep going until he saw bone if the door hadn't opened, the clicking of footsteps sounding like those of a teacher, making him flush it quickly down the toilet.

"Adrian?" It isn't a teacher, but someone stern and nerdy enough to wear the shoes of one.

He pushes down the sleeve of his blazer and emerges from the stall, to find Diedrich standing before him. "Yeah, d'you want smmmthin'?"

"You... you're fucked," Diedrich states in shock, seeing the bloodshot eyes and inhaling the stench of drugs and booze. Diedrich doesn't know how to help Adrian and nor does he particularly want to, just clears his throat. "Ahem, I thought you should hear it form me before anyone else. I'm going to ask Vincent out today,"

Adrian pauses for a moment, then barks out a laugh. "He won' say yes, an' you'll be all rejected nd sad... boo-hoo, my dear,"

Diedrich frowns, turning on his heel to leave without even using the toilet. "You're wrong, you don't know anything about Vincent,"

"Keep telllin' yrrrself that," Once he's gone, Adrian turns and throws his guts up into the toilet.

He flushes it and feels better after that - lucid, at least. He smirks towards the door, knowing Diedrich's fate before he even asks. After washing his hands in the sink and rinsing his mouth with water - which can go a long way in concealing his illicit activities - he goes to class anticipating Diedrich's defeat.

*

Diedrich's dark thoughts of rejection bring tension to the classroom and Vincent frowns, trying to deduce that they are. Normally, he has no problem knowing what Diedrich is thinking, today his thoughts feel less logical, shrouded in a dense of on confusion.

"Are you alright?" he asks the sweating, fumbling boy.

"Vincent, I've been thinking... I can't live without you, you know, and I want to know if... if we can please try again," Diedrich mutters out, unable to make eye contact.

Vincent's eyes widen slightly. He knew Diedrich wanted to be with him, he didn't think those feelings were strong enough to make him ask. He thinks for a while, then lets out a sigh of genuine remorse. "Diedrich, I understand how you feel. But I don't even know my sexuality yet, neither do you,"

"E-Exactly!" Diedrich answers desperately. "Neither of us know, so that's why we're perfect to help each other find out!"

"We tried that already and it didn't work," Vincent reminds him tersely, turning away to stare at the board and copy notes he doesn't think he needs. "I don't even think I think of you in... that way, and I don't want to lose you as a friend,"

Before Diedrich can respond, Vincent stands up and moves to the computer, beginning to work on his assessment. Diedrich glowers over his papers, blank but nowhere near as empty as him. 

"Come with me," The shorter boy tells him when the bell rings for break and Diedrich follows him outside. Vincent must have been texting Adrian or Grell at the computer because they all convene around the benches. Grell has a strange, glassy look in her eyes.

"What?" Diedrich asks, scrutinising her sceptically - surely Vincent didn't tell her?!

Vincent didn't tell her. Adrian did, as they had form class together. Adrian had staggered to his seat, opened one of his homework books and collapsed into it, cheek resting on the cool pages.

"Are you alright?" Grell had asked, her brows furrowed.

"No," Adrian groaned, leaning on his elbow. "Bu' I found out something very interesting,"

And he'd proceeded to tell her everything about Diedrich's hopeless bid for Vincent's love.

Now she snickers behind her hand. and Adrian has an amused smirk plastered across his face as he leans against the wall, tuning in and out of reality.

"Oh, nothing," she dismisses, examining her long red fingernails.

Vincent sighs, realising exactly what happened. He can't let Adrian's behaviour go unpunished, but this entire situation is one big clusterfuck of circumstances he'd rather not be part of.

By the time Diedrich stops feeling numb and fidgeting nervously, he has to leave Vincent to go to computing science, whereas Vincent has biology with Adrian. He curses the thought of leaving them alone together, and at the last moment asks. "Do you want to come to my house after school... you too, Adrian?"

Vincent and Adrian look equally taken aback, but Vincent answers 'yes' for them both before parting ways with Diedrich.

"Where were you before classes this morning?" Vincent asks Adrian in chemistry. "We didn't meet at the stairs, I was lonely,"

The taller boy shrugs. "I slept in, sorry,"

A terrible sobriety starts to take hold of Adrian and he finally sees the very real possibility that Vincent might leave him. Everyone tends to, when they're bored and lose interest.

"What's Diedrich's house like, anyway?" he asks Vincent, genuinely curious.

Vincent leans back and thinks for a moment. "It's unremarkable,"

*

 _He was right,_ Adrian thinks as they stand before Diedrich' house. _It is unremarkable._

It is, at least compared to Vincent's mansion. Diedrich's house is an upper-middle class home with five bedrooms and a large garden. Much bigger and more expensive than Adrian's house, but he expected more from someone who acts so stuck-up, like he's more worthy of Vincent's attention than Adrian is, just because he's of a higher class.

"Come in, please," Diedrich invites, placing a hand on Adrian's chest to stop him. "My mother is very kind, please be on your best behaviour," 

"You think so little of me," Adrian grins, pushing past him.

The interior is just as unremarkable as the plain outer walls, but Adrian notes that it's almost as clean as William keeps their house, with every surface bleached. It doesn't feel like OCD cleaning, more like a show-home that isn't really meant to be lived in.

They find the living room, which is a little less overbearing, and sit down on the long couch opposite the TV.

"Isn't this fun?" Adrian grins along the couch as Diedrich flicks through channels. "We have the full set,"

"The full set?" Diedrich frowns, and Vincent is already laughing.

"Yep, we have a dom, a sub and a switch," he points to Vincent, Diedrich and himself respectively.

Diedrich tints deep red and turns _Sherlock_ on, muttering angry refutes to Adrian's claim.

"Ooh, _Sherlock_ ," Adrian turns, putting his legs across Vincent's lap. Diedrich seethes in annoyance, but at least Adrian has good taste in TV.

Diedrich's parents enter, taking a look at their son's friends. Of course they recognise Vincent, but the punk-looking teen _with his feet on the couch_ is new.

Diedrich's father clears his throat and speaks firmly. "We don't allow shoes in this house,"

"Or feet on the furniture," his mother adds.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he looks at Diedrich and whispers. "You should have told me, "

The last thing he wants to do is fuck up someone's OCD if they have it. William taught him that, not deliberately, but Adrian has enough empathy not to exacerbate someone's mental illness.

"Sorry, I'm just so used to Vincent knowing what to do," Diedrich explains. 

Adrian gets a new idea, slinking back onto the couch on the opposite side of Vincent. He slips an arm around Diedrich's shoulders, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Diedrich shifts back, crashing right into Vincent. Adrian and Vincent share a look, and Vincent understands.

"Hmm, I'm loving how you look today, have you worked out?" Vincent slips an arm up his back, around his waist to caress the skin though his shirt, feeling for abs.

"I agree," Adrian buries his head in Diedrich's neck. "Although this aftershave is _not_ your scent," 

Diedrich's eyes couldn't widen anymore, his face heating like a stove.

In an instant, Adrian and Vincent disappear from his touch and sit normally again. Diedrich is left frustrated and blushing.

"Your face!" Adrian points and cackles cruelly, revelling in the joke they both just played on him.

Diedrich swallows and blushes even deeper. "F-Fuck you,"

"You're blushing!" Vincent hides his laughter behind his hand, while making it painfully obvious that he's laughing.

Eventually, even the tallest boy has to laugh at himself. This is probably the second-best outcomes he'd hope would happen with Vincent, the best being that he said yes ad Diedrich could confess his undying love. But staying friends and not feeling awkward around one another because of it is pretty good too.

Diedrich feels a strange shame when he realises that he's actually warming to Adrian. He doesn't understand why - he still hates everything about him - but his company has shifted from intolerable to musing, if ornery.


	8. Inclusive

The next few days pass by without incident for any of them, except Adrian.

For Adrian, every moment he's absorbed in his plan. So many times he throws out entire stacks of paper, that he'd spent hours working on, in his schematics for rescuing Vincent. He makes a list of everything he needs, every aspect of his plan. Firstly, he'll gather forensic evidence, or some other undeniable proof of abuse. Severe domestic abuse. He needs video recordings, blood on Mr Phantomive's fists, luminol to reveal spots of blood cleaned up across the house.

And he needs a way to practically rescue Vincent. Something tells him Vincent's isn't the best climber and wouldn't be able to escape through his window. His plan, therefore, is make an anonymous report to the police by sending them the evidence, encourage Vincent to spend the night away from home and watch then from the sidelines together as the catalyst for Vincent's torment goes away forever.

Adrian blinks, having zoned out again, staring at Vincent's lithe, expert hands. They're in the library, typing up their biology report using the computers. He frowns and looks at his report again, on such a boring topic as enzymes. His phone buzzes in his pocket.

_**Vincent: I see you staring** _

He blushes deeply and glances at Vincent, who smirks but doesn't take his eyes off his own report.

_**Adrian: Do you expect me not to when you're being a fucking tease?** _

He can't help staring at Vincent. Staring at his hands or into his eyes or at his lips as he smirks. He'd never stare at Vincent's chest, or his ass or his crotch, that's sexual harassment and not Adrian's intent. But how could he forget Vincent's hair - he always stares at that. What's sexy about Vincent isn't his body, though Adrian can't discount that.

It's how charismatic he is, with all his features combined.

**_Vincent: I'm just innocently typing._ **

**_Adrian: You are never innocent._ **

He loves getting the upper hand over Vincent's even if it's only superficial. He knows that no matter what, Vincent will always be one step ahead. Doesn't mean he can't enjoy teasing him.

_**Vincent: Help me with this report.** _

_**Adrian: I'll send you mine just copy it.** _

_**Vincent: No come help**_.

Adrian sighs and puts his hand up. "Can I sit with Vincent?"

The teacher looks up sceptically from is newspaper. "Why?"

"I need help with my report," Vincent admits.

"Fine, as long as it's help," he scowls at them both. "I don't want to hear you two talking about anything except work,"

When he looks back at his paper, Adrian's sticks his tongue out. "I don'-blah-blah-blah-blah work," he mimics, before collecting his things and shuffling over to sit with Vincent.

"What do you need me for?" he grins at the thought of Vincent needing him.

"Oh Adrian," The boy glances over at the teacher."No, I don't want help. I simply wanted to be closer to you,"

He leans in closer, whispering in Adrian's ear. "Pretend to help me, work on whatever you like. I'm dying of boredom without you here, amuse me,"

"Fine," Adrian's mouth forms a tight line. Vincent is infuriating, or is this a test? He begins doing is own report. Vincent just whistles lowly, and by the end of the class he's almost finished.

As he types the last key, he hears a disappointed sigh from Vincent. "I thought you were more interesting than this,"

"What?" Adrian turns to face him.

"Your report," he nods towards it. "It's not creative, you're just going through the motions,"

"Biology isn't my thing, chemistry is," 

"You're lying to yourself, you know you love working on people, you love finding out their secrets as much as I do," Vincent's eyes sparkle with the answers to a million questions, including ones Adrian has about himself. Vincent knows, somehow he knows. "Just different kinds of secrets,"

After a minute, Adrian asks the question he knows he doesn't want the answer to. "What kinds of secrets?"

"What makes them tick," Vincent stares into his eyes, his gaze becoming more intense with each word. "What they really are, on the inside... deep inside. How they live, how they move, how they think. And how they die, isn't that right Adrian?"

Adrian grins happily, making Vincent recoil in shock. "You've managed to put into words what I've been confused about for a long time. Thanks, you've given me some shit to think about,"

Vincent reflects his smile. "You're more curious than I thought, you continue to surprise me," 

Adrian grins back at his report, intent on altering it tonight. "Tomorrow, d'you wanna... stay at my place?"

"Adrian, you know I-"

"Tomorrow is Saturday, your mother will be willing to cover for you, won't she?"

"I suppose," Vincent exhales deeply. "Yes, I can stay for the night,"

"Fantastic," he laughs.

"Shall I ask Diedrich over as well?"

Shit. Adrian shrugs. "If you want, I don't care,"

Vincent's eyes flash, he clearly does care. "It's alright, I'm sure he has piano practice,"

Adrian scoffs, trying not to show his relief. "Piano practice?"

"Not everyone's hobbies include getting high and reading books that are falling apart,"

"Yeah whatever!" he shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling.

The boy watches Adrian closely, every microexpression, every flash of emotion in his eyes. He hopes he's right about what he thinks Adrian is doing. He hopes he's right to trust him to enact his plan. Yes, Vincent's plan, not Adrian's.

*

The car door closes and Adrian returns the half-drunken wine bottle to the fridge. He sits back on the couch and scrolls through YouTube, finding nothing but boring stupid shit.

William hastily walks past him, dumping his bag by the table and sliding out his laptop. "Can't talk. Working,"

Adrian looks up, an impassive expression on his face. "Can Vincent stay over tomorrow night?"

"Is he going to stay over regardless of whether I allow it or not?" William doesn't take his eyes off the laptop, his face doesn't change.

"Yeah," Adrian shrugs. He doesn't normally do this, but he walks over to William and peers over his shoulder. "I can grade some of your Year 7's work if you want,"

"Did you even attend any business classes in Year 7?"

"I probably skipped them, but how hard can it be?"

William slides one of the papers from his folder. "What are some of the qualities of entrepreneurship?"

Adrian shrugs, relaxing his shoulders. "Fuck if I know,"

"Exactly," William goes back to his typing. He hopesthat Adrian will leave him alone, instead he sits opposite him. "Why are you talking to me, are you bored?"

"No! If you're bored, then you're boring," Adrian states with confidence. "I'm lonely, you provide me with a certain... specific kind of attention,"

"Like a parental figure?" William finally looks at his adopted son, who he never thought considered him a parental authority.

He recognises his mistake and laughs, wide eyed. "Nah, your personality is just fun,"

"Ah, well that is good also," William agrees, slightly disappointed. "Well yes, even if it doesn't matter, I'm fine with Vincent staying over. I'd love to meet your friend,"

Adrian has never had many friends, usually because they move around a lot and his social anxiety makes approaching people difficult. But when introverts adopt him into their groups, it's nothing but wonderful to see the changes in him.

"Imma go out and get McDonalds, Vincent's meeting me there," Adrian lifts his bag up again.

"When will you be back?"

"Oh, how should I know?" Adrian calls as he slams the door behind him, walking with an anxious pace to the McDonalds. Can't keep Vincent waiting.

He meets Vincent on the way, finding him in the bowl of a children's climbing frame at the playpark.

"Adrian!" he smiles over at him as he clambers up the rope ladder, to finally sit on the ledge.

He sighs with exacerbation. "Ugh,"

"I expected you to be better at climbing than this?" he chuckles, shifting over to sit closer to him. "You climbed out of the burning funeral parlour, didn't you?"

"Why is my past coming up now?" Adrian asks in response, climbing back down to avoid the question.

"I don't know," Vincent climbs down too, looking into the darkness framed by the step of the rope ladder. "It's a nostalgic night, wouldn't you say?"

"Whatever," Adrian didn't have time to change after school, the sleeves of his uniform crinkle audibly as he shrugs. 

But he knows Vincent is right, as the wind blows his hair back. Cars roar past him on the road, their lights blinding him like the flashing of flames. The night is a nostalgic time, this night in particular.

"I'd like to get a photoshoot, are you any good with photography?"

"I can try?" Adrian agrees tentatively.

Vincent takes his hand and tugs him down a pathway. "Come on then,"

The pathway leads to a tunnel, the walkway underneath a motorway, with the echo of cars growling overhead. There are no lights, only the moonlight streaming through the other side. Adrian can tell why Vincent wanted pictures here, it fits with his aesthetic.

It fits with Adrian's too. 

"Okay... stand there," Adrian gestures to the centre of the walkway and Vincent reaches up, striking a dramatic pose. His shirt rides up a little, revealing milky white skin and a defined V-line. Adrian tries to focus on taking the picture.

He hands Vincent his phone back. "I like these, well done," 

He flips hair he doesn't have over his shoulder and they divert from their route, trudging through the forest beside the walkway instead. It's pure darkness, separated from the main road by the wide stretch of motorway.

"This used to be a railway bridge," Vincent explains, peering down at the redbrick drop of the tunnel. He looks back at Adrian and smiles. "Do you think I'd survive such a fall?"

Adrian leans over and looks down, putting all his trust in Vincent to not push him off the ledge. "Depends on how you landed, but you'd definitely break a few bones," 

"That's what I thought," Vincent stands with his back to the drop, swaying slightly in the wind. He leans backlittle, hanging just on the edge.

He feels a pair of arms wrap around his torso and grins.

"I thought you didn't care?"

"That's why I'm doing this," Adrian states, clinging onto him. "If you fall, I'm going down with you," 

He places his neck on Vincent's shoulder, his chin just on his back. "And this way, if you let yourself fall I'll certainly die,"

Vincent stands back up, letting Adrian guide him to a safer distance. "You can let go of me now,"

"Not till we're off this ledge," Adrian mumbles into his jacket.

"Fair enough,"

They gets back onto the road and don't mention what happened. Still in the darkness, Adrian lets go of Vincent and his hand slips down, hovering just above his. "Do you mind if I...?" 

As an answer, Vincent takes his hand.

*

They get to McDonalds and Adrian realises he doesn't want anything. Vincent seems to reach the same conclusion, and they just buy drinks.

"This coke doesn't bite as much as my usual coke," Adrian jokes, winking at him over the table.

Vincent hums and leans over, turning to face the girls at the table behind him. He puts on his wistful charm, showing rare perfect teeth. "D'you girls do to Ingleside Academy? I thought I recognised you..."

The girls say yes, and that they're sisters. They don't look so similar, perhaps because one has dyed her hair bright scarlet, her features concealing under high-coverage makeup with a shimmering red lip.

"You're Rachel, aren't you?" he asks the one with light golden hair and only subtle makeup. 

"That's right," she answers with a gentle smile.

"Vincent Phantomhive," he leans in close to her, fucking her with his eyes and smiling. Adrian can tell it's all an experiment for Vincent, but to discover what he doesn't know.

Vincent keeps flirting and Adrian and the girl in red stare at each other awkwardly. "Is your favourite colour red?"

"What gave me away?" she drawls.

"That's my friend Grell's favourite colour," Adrian smiles. "She looks like you," 

"Show me," she smiles confidently. "This I must see,"

Adrian promptly shows her Grell's social media, and she immediately finds her on her on phone and adds her. "You're right, she's beautiful,"

She sees the look on Adrian's face and knows how that sounded. "Oh no, I'm not, like, in love with myself. She's just very hot, and I'm very gay,"

"Same,"

"Yeah, I know," she runs her eyes up and down Adrian then looks at Vincent, who's still absorbed in flirting. "Are you two...?"

"No," he answers sadly, staring at Vincent from behind once again. 

"But you want to be?"

He nods slightly. "That's rough. Hey, can I get your info? You seem cool,"

Adrian gives her his information and they talk for as long as it takes to get kicked out. By now, it's past ten and they have to go their separate ways.

"Are you going to ask her out?" Adrian asks Vincent once the girls are gone.

"Hm?" Vincent looks at him and he repeats the question. "No, there's nothing wrong with her but I'm not interested,"

"Then why were you being all weirdly flirty?"

"Cant you guess?" he smirks.

"You were flirting... to see if you are interested?" his eyes widen. "You were testing your sexuality!"

"Well done," Vincent nods in affirmation.

"Well then... what did you uh, conclude?"

"The data is inconclusive," Vincent answers sharply, before his voice softens to a thoughtful hum. "But it's certainly given me something to consider,"


	9. The Calm After the Storm

"Oh can't you just stay over tonight as weeeeelllll?" Adrian whines as he drops Vincent off at his house on this Friday night.

"Afraid not," Vincent chuckles. "My father would get suspicious if he didn't see me at breakfast,"

"That's - _cough_ \- an excuse - _cough_ ," Adrian scoffs, but with good nature. "So, I'll see you-"

Vincent grabs Adrian's arm and drags him closer. Adrian gasps as they now stand with their foreheads pressed together. Vincent whispers. "What a perfect time for a first kiss,"

The silver-haired boy gasps and whispers back "You want to kiss me?" he feels so elated right now, adrenaline flowing through him. He's riding through a natural high, something more powerful than any drug.

Vincent strokes down Adrian's side, grabbing his hip and making him lean back as they kiss. He guides Adrian through the kiss - its pace, its intensity.

Adrian grins, Vincent Phantomhive is dominating him, and he loves it. He loves it when Vincent's tongue explores his mouth, deepening the kiss until he nibbles Adrian's lip, he loves it when Vincent's soft hands caress his face in a loving gesture. They continue to kiss for quite a while, Adrian doesn't know how long, he doesn't need to know. All his trust is placed in Vincent.

The taller boy pulls away eventually, brushing Vincent's lips lightly with his own. "Have you made any conclusions from your experiment?"

For he knows exactly what that kiss was to Vincent - an explorative investigation into the question of his sexuality.

"I think I have," Vincent admits with a wry smile as he looks up at the flushed boy standing above him. His hair is messy and he blushes even deeper, like he made fun of Diedrich for doing.

"Will you tell me what they are, please - scientific ethics state you must share your results with experiment participants," Adrian grins.

"I have concluded that, well, I'm very attracted to you and people who look like you," Adrian knows he means guys. Vincent stops back a little. "And I'm also very attracted to Rachel, and people who look like her,"

The tall boy smiles, more genuinely, as he places a quick and light kiss on Vincent's lips. "Are you satisfied with that conclusion?"

He rubs his chin as if deliberating a deep philosophical concept. "I'm very satisfied, I'm sure I have all the data I need now,"

Weary of angering Vincent, Adrian doesn't ask why he couldn't figure that out from Diedrich. He takes Vincent's hand in his own as they stand at his doorway. "Can you make your own way home from here?"

"Yes, I'll be fine, even in darkness," The blue-haired boy smiles just as genuinely as Adrian had, but his words remain crisp and concise. He side-steps down the stairs and out of Adrian's driveway. "Because darkness can reveal the most interesting things, things one cannot see in light."

Adrian chuckles and calls after him. "That's not how darkness works!"

He enters his house and sighs when he finds William peeking through a crack in the blinds, watching Vincent leave. He probably saw and heard everything. "Well, you probably have comments,"

William stares at him with a mixture of parental pride and worry, eyes completely revealed s he doesn't wear his glasses, already dressed in striped pyjamas. They gather around the table again, Adrian throws his bag on the floor in preparation for a painful lecture. "I didn't know he was so... confident, he feels like the opposite of you - not that there's anything wrong with you!"

Adrian smiles distantly. "You're completely right, and don't worry, I'm not insulted by that," he groans and leans back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. "Ugh - just tell me if you like him already!"

He's slightly apprehensive to find out his parent's reaction, but the anticipation feels even worse.

"Like him?!" William pauses for a moment to habitually run his hand through his hair to rectify it to its slicked-back neatness. "I absolutely love him and can't wait to meet him properly tomorrow,"

Adrian grins awkwardly and nods in affirmation, with no idea how he's otherwise supposed to act.

"And that's midnight, and I have work to do so get upstairs," William reminds him, suddenly stern.

The silver-haired boy sighs and starts towards his bedroom, crashing into his coffin and closing the lid, which he doesn't often do.

In the darkness, Adrian pulls out his phone and messages the girl in red from McDonalds, whose handle is aptly 'Red'.

 **_ Adrian:  _ ** **_Guess who kissed me tonight?_ **

The response is almost immediate.

 **_ Red:  _ ** **_Blue boy_ ** **_that_ ** **_kept flirting with Rachel???_ **

**_ Adrian:  _ ** **_The very same! He kissed me, and I think (hope, hope to the grim reaper!) that he like-likes me._ **

**_ Red:  _ ** **_If you can see him tomorrow, ask him out._ **

**_ Adrian:  _ ** **_Really, so soon?_ **

**_ Red:  _ ** **_YES trust me, I know this story._ **

**_ Adrian: _ ** **_Fine, but if this fucks up, I'm blaming your shitty dating advice and totally not my_ ** **_own_ ** **_awkwardness._ **

*

Saturday finally arrives and with it, the enaction of Adrian's plan. For the past few days, he's been climbing the fence into the Phantomhive estate and recording through the windows. He has some audio recordings and blood samples, pictures of Claudia which he can mail to the police anonymously. But it isn't enough - so he returns today.

Clambering through the familiar bramble bushes, Adrian sneaks around behind what was once an old kitchen in the Georgian mansion. He puts his hands on the windowsill, steadying his legs to climb when a sudden loud noise makes him plummet to the ground.

Adrian lets out a gasp of air at the impact, unable even to cry out. It was more of a shock than pain, from which he quickly recovers and tries to scramble away in fright.

"Wait!" the source of the noise calls, an old butler who emerged from the kitchen.

Adrian stands up, trapped between fight and flight and between listening and running. "Why should I?" he asks wearily.

The butler frowns and without stepping closer, places a thick envelope on the ground. "Trust me," he states, and for some reason, Adrian does.

The silver-haired boy tentatively takes the thick envelope, opening it and sliding out some documents. "This is-!"

Everything he needs and more, from pictures to hard drives of video evidence to recorded confessions and screenshots of messages between Cedric Phantomive and his friends. He looks up and his eyes fix on the timid, old butler. "You could have already shown this to the police an' had him jailed five times over to domestic abuse, battery, aggravated assault - you name it.

His teeth click in an enraged accusation. "So why the _fuck_ didn't you?" 

The very old, very tired butler takes off his glasses and wipes them on his handkerchief. "I suppose I've always been scared of Mr Phantomhive, I didn't know what would happen if he found out I did something like that,"

Adrian nods, expressionless. "Thanks anyway...?"

"My name is Tanaka," he states, "Good luck, please take care of Master Vincent, he needs someone to,"

"I know that," he allows the corners of his mouth to turn up into a slight smile before booking it back over the fence. Combining this and his other evidence, although much less than what's in this folder, will be enough to send anonymously to the police station - more than enough to warrant an arrest.

*

Adrian and Vincent meet again, this Saturday afternoon. This time Vincent is prepared with an overnight bag, which they dump in Adrian's room before going out again.

"Where are we going?" Vincent asks as Adrian leads him down a pathway, adjacent to some very tall trees with thick cover. Adrian finds a gap in the cover and drags Vincent down the makeshift path, avoiding steep edges on either side.

They reach a clearing, larger than Vincent expected, a stretch of pure dirt with threadbare patches of grass. Vincent looks through the trees and over the water and sees, unmistakably, his own house.

"I had no idea this place even existed!" he gasps, knowing there was a forest behind his house but certainly not one with a vantage point.

"I've been doing some exploring," The taller boy murmurs, taking out his lighter and burning some random paper on the damp dirt underfoot.

"What are we doing here, Adrian?" Vincent asks wearily, looking around in the semi-darkness of tree cover as flashes of sunlight grow weaker in the late afternoon transition.

Adrian looks straight at Vincent's house. "You'll find out later. But for now-" he places a joint in Vincent's hand, takes out a four-pack of beer from is deep pockets. "-we're getting fucked up,"

"You know I don't do that," Vincent reminds him sternly.

"Trust me, you're going to need it for what's about to happen,"

Vincent rolls his eyes and glances back at his house. _I didn't know Adrian was this far ahead in 'his' plan already. He better know what he's doing._

"Alright," Vincent grabs one of the bottles and takes a quick gulp. "This tastes terrible-"

"Aww what, are you gonna be all pouty with me? It's beer, of course it tastes horrible," Adrian winks down at him, full of confidence for someone on the borderline between excitement for what's to come and the terror of misjudgement.

 _What if I don't have enough_ _evidence,_ _what if I left some trace of my identity_ _at the mansion_ _, what if that bastard gets granted bail?_

For now he can only trust in his evidence and in Tanaka.

An hour passes, maybe two. They have fun while awaiting the event, finding an old tyre and some rope, which Adrian fasten together and climbs a tree to make a swing of.

A sudden wailing in the distance makes them freeze and their eyes lock on to the Phantomhive mansion. They turn off, and there's a moment of silence before three cars arrive, surrounding the property. The boys watch, hopeful and worried, as the house is raided violently.

Cedric Phantomhive is dragged out not a minute later, screaming displeasure at the stone-faced officer. They watch and Vincent feels like he's seeing his father for the wretched creature he is. A sort of calm passes over him, his vision and thoughts are shrouded in mist. Throughout his life, clarity and alertness have been a necessity. Now, for the first time, he feels truly safe and the sharpness of his vision can soften at the edges.

Vincent crashes is face into Adrian's shoulder, making the latter look down at him worriedly. "I've been holding back," Vincent admits. "I've been to tense, so rigid to protect myself, but I don't need to be anymore,"

He looks back at the house and his mother is now in the garden, distraught as a social worker tries to calm her down.

"You had this planned all along," Adrian cuts off his thoughts, nudging him a little. "I don't blame you for using me, you knew it'd work,"

"I trusted you to pull it off," Vincent takes his hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the paler skin, before stretching his neck to kiss Adrian. They kiss to the sounds of chaos, in their kingdom of serenity speared from the evils of the world by nothing but a narrow small stream. The kiss breaks, suddenly they're horizontal, staring into one another's eyes. "Shall we get together, then?"

The silver-haired boy blinks and frowns before pushing Vincent off, sitting up and dusting himself down. "Yeah, I mean there's nothing stopping us... if you want to,"

"I've wanted to for a long time, I just haven't been able to ask," Vincent's eyes widen in slight offence, as if he just insulted himself. "Let's go home, I'm sure my phone will be ringing any moment now,"

"The police will want to talk to you - maybe strip you down and take pictures of your wounds," Adrian snickers. "They did that shit to me,"

"I'm perfectly happy to cooperate," Vincent retraces their steps back to the path. "As long as it gets Cedric behind bars,"


	10. Challenging

**WARNING - Sexual intercourse between characters. I'd like to preface this chapter by saying that this book is set in England, I am in England, and the age of consent here is 16. They are not minors, they are not underage. I'll put warning symbols (** ⚠️ **) so you can skip the scene.**

On Sunday morning, Vincent opens his eyes and smiles, before searching the other side of the coffin for Adrian. But the space is empty, a sea of blood that seems to have swallowed his partner during the night. He frowns and sits up, leaning on his elbows, and looks around the room as he waits for his eyes to adjust. The tall figure, like a noire silhouette, sits on the edge of his bed, shuddering with his arms wrapped tightly around his body, almost exploring his ribs.

Vincent rubs his eyes and curiously crawls towards his... boyfriend - that's still strange for him to say. He slowly wraps his arms around Adrian from behind, the taller disconcertingly calm, and nuzzles into his shoulder. "I haven't slept so well in a long time,"

Adrian doesn't even blink, doesn't register Vincent's presence, just looks into the blankness of his ceiling. "Mmm, morning my dear,"

"What's wrong?" The shorter boy kisses Adrian's cheek and draws back to observe the thoughts in his expressions.

"Why would something be wrong?" his voice is hollow, he turns away from Vincent. "We did it... didn't we, we got you out of there..."

"Exactly, and I credit you for doing so - and thinking you came up with the plan all by yourself," Vincent chuckles. "Now, it's a Sunday, we have the entire day to spend in bed, in here, don't we?"

Adrian sits back on the bed and draws down the blinds, trapping them in darkness. He reaches out and grabs Vincent, drawing him closer. Vincent looks at him from so close and still, his eyes are dead, his expression vacant.

"I can't, I'm not in the mood," Vincent stands and turns away form Adrian, kneeling by the bookcase and reading titles with furious intensity. Anything to stop him violently torturing Adrian for answers.

"Not in the -? We're both virgins you weirdo, stop talking like a forty year old housewife," Adrian throws a pillow at him, some of the light back in his eyes.

Vincent fights back a relieved smile that nothing is truly wrong with him.

At this moment, the front door bangs several times and both boys freeze. William pushes open the bedroom door and stares, accusatorily, at Adrian. "It's the police, what have you done!"

"Nothing!" Adrian glares and crosses his arms while Vincent cranes his neck to make sure that yes, it is the police.

William rushes downstairs, Adrian and Vincent follow behind and watch from the stairs as he opens the door. "Can I help you, officers?"

He turns back around, staring wide-eyed at Vincent. "They want to talk to you,"

To William's bewilderment, Vincent leads the police into the dining room and closes the door behind them. The man turns to Adrian and fixes him with a glare. "Start talking immediately,"

Adrian leans on the staircase and stares ahead for a moment, he breaths out, wishing it was the exhale of a cigarette. He tells William everything - not everything, of course, but more than he's sure Vincent would like. At the end, he silently awaits his adoptive father's judgement call. "Well," He sighs. "I suppose that means Vincent will be staying permanently?"

Adrian grins and admits with a smile, vacantly lovingly. "We uh, kissed again, and he's uh... my boyfriend now,"

Adrian stands up, he's only wearing his pyjama trousers but he doesn't care as he stares at the kitchen door. "Dammit, I'm thirsty as fuck," he feels the sticky inside of his mouth, having not drank anything since last night, and that was only beer.

William raises his eyebrows and stares at the kitchen door again, worried. "How long do you think they'll be in there?"

Adrian shrugs. "Knowing Vincent, he'll talk them into circles and they'll wander out of here in a trance,"

William quirks an eyebrow, adjusting the glasses on his face as he thinks of something. "He sounds quite manipulative,"

Adrian laughs flippantly, making it the rest of the way downstairs and settling down to watch TV in his underpants. "You don't have to worry about me,"

"That wasn't a denial," He frowns down at Adrian. "I'm responsible for your safety and if he-"

The door opens. Vincent emerges, looking sullen. He passes by Adrian without a word, his face shadowed in darkness, and almost runs upstairs towards Adrian's room. He slams the door, isolating himself behind its protective force.

Adrian looks at the officers. "That sounds like it went fucking swimmingly!"

He tears up the stairs after Vincent. William looks at the police, bewildered.

"Sir, is it alright if Vincent Phantomhive stays at this residence, in case we need to contact him further?"

"I - of course," William gives the officer his details, the trembling still in his heart. He bids them farewell and closes the door behind them. Walking back upstairs and into Adrian's room, he fixes the boys with the kind of no-nonsense teacher look that he knows works on at least his adoptive son. "Vincent, you will live under the same rules Adrian. We'll convert the attic into your bedroom, if you plan on staying here. Do you?"

Vincent stares at Adrian, taking his hand. "If you'll have me,"

"That's settled," William dismisses them with a flick of his wrist. "Don't bother me for the rest of the day, I have a headache now,"

Happy to oblige, the pair return to Adrian's bedroom and back to the coffin, savouring the satin sheets against their bodies. Adrian is still just in pyjama bottoms, Vincent starts to strip out of yesterday's clothes.

"In the wardrobe, take what you want," Adrian curls around the pillow, but to his surprise, Vincent strips naked and stays that way. His eyes are downcast, his face dark in a silent rage. _What happened in there?_ Adrian wonders but knows there's no point in asking.

⚠️

"You know what I want, Undertaker," He straddles him in the coffin, pressing him deep into its flesh. Firmly gripping the undersides of Adrian's legs, he lifts them up over his head.

"Fuck, you know how long I've wanted to do this?" he goads, coating his fingers in saliva. "Forever, since the day we met I wanted to control you,"

"Control me?" Adrian smirks, knowing very well the risk of teasing Vincent. "I'm too stubborn to let you,"

"That sounds like a challenge, Undertaker," Vincent presses him down harder, reaching down and squeezing the erection in his crotch - how long has that been there? Adrian bucks his hips in reaction. He bites back a moan, just barely keeping himself together.

Vincent reaches down and grips his own erection, coating it in saliva before positioning it close to Adrian's entrance. "Don't you need to - I don't know - prepare?"

The tall boy frowns and tilts his head to the side. "It should be fine, right?"

The smallest thrust from Vincent tells them both that it is in fact, not fine at all. Adrian lets out a pained howl and leaps from the bed, feeling internally bruised. "I'm - going to go to the bathroom!"

"Yes, you do that," Vincent agrees, wide-eyed and less sure of himself than he was. _First times are bound to be a bit weird... right?_

Adrian returns and flops down in the same position, lying at his back at the head of the coffin. "Right, I'm ready,"

"Are you sure?" upon the nod, Vincent proceeds, and it goes in a little easier now.

Adrian lies, oddly calm considering what's happening to him down there. At some point, Vincent's hand wraps around his own member, and he relaxes into the touch. He smiles reassuringly down at Vincent, who's taken to gazing up at him with a predatory yet intimate look.

He can't help but smile, and neither can the other. They reach, with difficulty, to lock in a kiss until Adrian feels something weird and hot inside him. He squeals and jumps off, staring at Vincent in confusion until he realises what just happened, and that another trip to the bathroom is immediately necessary.

⚠️

Vincent laughs, not worried anymore. That was an experience - an intense experience, an amazing experience. He can't deny his enjoyment, the feeling of power he has stroking Adrian until he mewled with a strange ecstasy.

Adrian comes back and slides into the coin, "Aren't you going to - uh-"

"Well don't you want me to... finish, and stuff?"

"Oh, uh... no," Adrian shakes his head and smiles. "It's not you, I'm probably just too stubborn to cum - and no, that isn't a damn challenge," he adds after seeing the look on Vincent's face.

*

Adrian comes back to the bedroom with a beer and two pastries, throwing one which Vincent catches expertly. "William gave me money, we can go into town and get you clothes and shit for your room,"

"Must we?" while Vincent didn't think to bring more than an overnight bag, the thought of being dragged around a shopping centre on a day he's _supposed_ to be lazy feels unbearable. Adrian throws him a look and he sighs. "If you insist,"

The shopping centre is heaving with people, the boys dodging families every corner they turn. They hold hands and it becomes very clear very quickly that Adrian is a very fast walker.

"Slow dooooooown," Vincent whines, feeling the burn in his legs.

"Ah, a clothes shop, this will do," Adrian yanks him into the small H&M, which he scrutinises with distaste.

"This shop is so cheap," he glares at the prices for being too low. "I need better quality than this, I'm used to a certain standard. How much did William give us?"

"Two-hundred something?" Adrian pulls an unknown crumple of bills from his pocket.

"Then what on Earth are we doing here?!" Vincent whines like a child.

"Because, if we buy you a bunch of cheap-ass clothes we can use the rest to go on a fancy date," Adrian grabs an armful of clothes he feels are Vincent's style and thrusts them into his arms. "Go and try these on, I'm sure you'll look fabulous whatever you wear!" he grins.

Vincent goes into the changing room and dresses into each item of clothing. Looking at himself in the mirror, Vincent knows that Adrian is right and he does look good in anything he wears. He can _feel_ the cheapness of the fabric against his body, but he's sure he'll get used to it. He emerges from the changing room in his new outfit, raising his arms and posing for Adrian. "How do I look?"

Adrian's eyes flicker up from his phone, a millisecond is all it takes for his jaw to drop. "Cheap clothes fuckin' suit you, holy shit you're perfect," he stares at Vincent, absorbing every detail of his outfit - how the white shirt clutches his shoulders, the dark blue jeans add extra sophistication. "I'm picking all your clothes from now on, okay?"

"I must say, you've done well picking these," he admires himself in the mirror once again.

Adrian takes his boyfriend to the cash desk still wearing the outfit, and they pay for each item. As they leave the shop, Vincent looks up at Adrian, taking his hand in his. "Any ideas for our date? I assume you have some kind of plan,"

_Shit, I don't even know what he likes!_ Adrian stops outside the first restaurant they find that could be thought of as 'fancy' - an old 19th century bank the size of a concert hall. "This... looks... like it'd be good?"

Vincent surveys it with lazy disdain. "I suppose, let's go,"

_Dick_ , Adrian sticks his tongue out at Vincent and they enter the foyer.

"Can I help you both?" asks the girl at the reception desk.

Adrian grins and takes Vincent's hand. "A balcony table, please,"

"That'll be an extra ten pounds surcharge," she reminds, discreetly glancing at Adrian's ripped jeans and dirt-splattered shoes.

Smugly, he leads Vincent upstairs to give him what will (hopefully) be too good a date to complain about.


	11. About the Characters: Vincent

**I'm not good at writing children, leave me alone.** **I was playing around with different writing styles in this chapter, tell me what you think.**   
**TW violence.**

**10 Years Ago.**

It's not fair. _It's not fair!_

His bruised body feels aflame, writhing in searing pain.

Cedric Phantomhive smokes cigars. He smokes cigars and dumps the ashes onto the carpet. Vincent watches from his spot on the floor in front of the television.

Their old-money mansion is decorated as it was in the seventies, its old wallpaper browned and falling off the walls. The navy blue, velvet couch is torn and lumpy, but Vincent isn't allowed on that anyway. Children are noisy and dirty, and aren't allowed on the furniture.

Cedric Phantomhive hates noise. He hates even the sight of his son, but he especially hates Vincent's voice.

"If you don't stop staring at me,"

Vincent looks away. His father doesn't make threats, doesn't even add an 'or else'. Just _'If you keep staring at me,'_

As if daring Vincent to test him.

Vincent goes back to watching TV, some cop drama called Taggart. Vincent loves cop dramas, he likes the villains best. They're all so cool and poise, pristine and confident. Like his father was in those old pictures of him from the sixties and seventies. Confident, attractive, successful. That's what Vincent aspires to be.

He imagines himself in a crisp suit walking down a New York highway, smoking a cigarette and chatting up a blonde girl. Maybe he could be a pickup artist or a conman. A white collar criminal sitting in a Wall Street office in front of a skyline window - that's how he pictures himself.

"Dammit, you bloody brat, I told you to stop staring at me," Cedric grabs Vincent by the collar and wrenches him up to his full height. The man is so tall, or rather Vincent is so short, that he towers over him. Vincent can't wait to be tall, tall people are strong.

Claudia comes out the kitchen and surveys the scene before her. "Cedric, please, he's only six," she pleads docilely.

He narrows his eyes and throws Vincent down. "No, I warned the little bugger!"

A white hot pain sears across the back on Vincent's neck. He lies on his front, feeling the pulsing burn. The cigar put out on the back of his neck, branding him as 'bad'.

"You know you're not bad, Vincent," Claudia soothes him that night before bed, smearing cream on the wound.

"Father thinks I am,"

"Your father just gets angry sometimes, but he loves you," she smooths down his hair and kisses his forehead. "And we love him,"

"Yes mother," Vincent agrees, even if he hasn't felt a day of love for the man in his life.

*

**4 Years Later.**

"I hate him," Vincent scoffs, walking along the riverbank with Diedrich. His satchel clutched in his tight fist, he takes in the light summer breeze wafting through the thin fabric of his cotton school uniform. It feels almost like the freedom of nakedness.

"You don't hate him, he's your father," Diedrich dismisses Vincent, he's always talking like this.

"I bloody well do hate him!" Vincent insists, kicking a can against the pavement.

"What happened this time?" Diedrich sounds almost tired of it. Tired of hearing about his best friend's abuse. Not that Vincent ever tells the truth.

"Tch, nothing," he lies. "I just hate him,"

Diedrich does rugby, and although he keeps telling Vincent he has the perfect body type for it - short with powerful leg - the shorter boy refuses to do any sports. Diedrich guesses that Vincent doesn't really like his body and doesn't like showing it to people.

Vincent always tries to get out of going to gym, and has done so successfully for the past three weeks. His excuses vary, but are usually along the lines of forgetting his gym uniform. The school, of course, calls his parents over it often. When Claudia answers, she laughs it off, because she knows the reason Vincent doesn't do gym: the changing rooms. When Cedric answers...

Today, however, the gym teacher isn't accepting any excuse and throws some old gym clothes at Vincent. "Put these on with the rest of the boys and stop being lazy,"

"But sir-"

"Do you want to go to the Headmaster's office?"

They'll call his parents. He can't take the chance that Cedric will answer. He bangs open the door to the changing room and gulps, seeing the eyes of the others boys land on him.

He goes for a cubicle, but at the last moment-

"Vincent! I saved you a space,"

 _Diedrich,_ he forces a sickly smile and goes over to change with him, in a thankfully quite secluded corner. He pulls down his trousers and by some horrific twist of fate, he's wearing his thinnest white briefs today.

"Vincent!" there's a sudden cry of distress and Vincent whips around, covering his behind with his hands. He stares in Diedrich's eyes, lost for anything to say, the spike of panic makes his knees buckle and his insides quiver.

In a second, the expression is gone, replaced by a mask of calm. But he can't even play it off now, pretend there's nothing wrong. The sheer panic in his eyes was unmistakable.

Diedrich looks shocked, offended. "Vincent, what's wrong with your...?"

Vincent shakes his head. "Relax, it's-"

"-Your father," Diedrich deduces. Vincent pulls up his gym shorts.

"My father, so what?"

"I thought he just shouted at you, I didn't know he beat you as well," and after a moment. "You need to tell someone!"

Vincent shakes his head. "Absolutely not,"

"Vincent!" Diedrich looks worried, on the verge of crying. "If you won't tell someone, I will!"

Diedrich turns to leave but Vincent grabs him by the upper arm, dragging him back. "You don't have to tell anyone. He just hits me, it isn't even abuse, not really," This time, he's prepared. This time, he lies perfectly.

"But he shouldn't hit you, Vincent," Diedrich fixes him with a hard stare and begins questioning him. "When did he do that?"

 _Four days ago,_ "Last night. You know I bruise easy, it wasn't that hard," he lies.

"How many times did he-?"

The gym teacher's voice calls them from outside and the boys hurry out.

Vincent tries to avoid Diedrich for the next few days. He becomes even more secretive, even more paranoid about his wounds. He skips school over bruises. He becomes more scared of Diedrich finding out the truth than he is of his father's abuse.

One day, Diedrich hangs back outside the school for him and by the time Vincent sneaks out the side doors, it's too late.

"You're not supposed to come out those doors," Diedrich accuses.

"Oh, stop being so wet!"

"You're the one who's too scared to talk to me!" He has a point, Vincent thinks.

"Sorry," he murmurs a half-hearted apology.

"So your dad..."

 _Dammit!_ Vincent groans, here comes another interrogation.

"Is that why I'm not allowed at your house?" He always wondered.

"Yes, father likes quiet," Vincent refuses to look at him.

"So what did you do to get all beaten up?" Diedrich asks, sounding excited. As if this somehow makes Vincent cool.

He makes something up. "He told me to put the TV off and I told him to shut up,"

"Wow!" Diedrich admires. "You're so brave, Vinnie!"

"Yuck, never call me that,"

"But I thought you didn't like your name. It's too 'old-fashioned'," Diedrich teases.

Vincent rolls his eyes. "At least my name doesn't have 'die' in it,"

*

As time passes, Diedrich notices that Vincent isn't very 'brave' after all. He notices how he flinches away from the slightest touch, how he explodes with rage if a single thing troubles him, and notices the bruises.

"Um, Vincent?"

Vincent looks up from his worksheet, an analysis of graphs. "Yes?"

"Your father doesn't just hit you,"

Vincent sighs, staring at Diedrich through half-lidded, deeply-set dark eyes. There's no point in lying anymore. "No, he doesn't just hit me,"

"We need to tell the police!"

"This again?" his voice is cold, emotionless. Diedrich flinches, it's like seeing an entirely different person. Like Vincent is split in two.

In Vincent's mind is the ruthless Wall Street criminal he idolised all those years ago.

"Diedrich, if you tell someone... I'll be taken away from my mother. I'll be sent to a home, I might have to change schools. I'll lose everything, is that what you want?"

Tears spring in Diedrich's eyes. "N-No,"

"So actually, I don't think you have to tell anyone,"

Diedrich tries his best to shut down his emotions. "What does he do?" he gulps down the unpleasant question, the one that feels like sandpaper in his mouth.

_He burns me, he holds me down and pours boiling hot coffee down my throat, he keeps me wake at night with screaming. He beats my mother. He holds me down in cold water, and I feel my life droning as the air drains form my lungs. My heart is as ice as the water._

"He hurts me, he hurts my mum sometimes too," he admits, already feeling like he's saying too much. "He shouts and breaks my things and sometimes he hits me in the face,"

"Vincent..." he looks so lost, so scared. It makes Vincent smile inside with cruel glee. "Surely it's worth it to get away from him, it's worth living in a home, my parents will adopt you!"

Vincent smiles sadly and shakes his head. "You could never understand,"

*

 _He's going to kill me. That's fine._ Vincent is tied to his bedspread, the spontaneous action of one of his father's erratic episode. He's been hearing a strange word recently, his mother talks about it down the phone. The word is paranoid-schizophrenia. Or is that two words?

That's what's 'wrong' with his father, like how something is 'wrong' with him when he has a cold.

It must have only been two minutes, that's how long it took from Vincent to get home from school to now, tied here, realising his mortality. _I'm going to die. I'll never see Diedrich again, I'd like to hold his hand. Mother - is this my fault, do I not understand what's wrong with father?_

The man comes in again, no weapon in his hands. Strange, that's very strange. Vincent feels hands on his body, touching him. A different kind of touch.

It goes on and on, and in the end, Vincent is left alone in his room. A different kind of touch. There was no pain, it feels different. Dirty, but otherwise numb.

He tries to think of his mother, to feel love for her, and he can't. He remembers how it felt, he felt it only minutes ago. But he can't access it, like it's been ripped away from him. Diedrich too, he remembers their friendship but feels nothing of it. If Diedrich disappeared, he wouldn't care. Blood trickles between the sheets.

"You haven't slept again," Diedrich accuses Vincent the next day. "I told you to try that app I have!"

"I forgot to download it," Vincent walks ahead, doesn't look at him.

Diedrich sneers, walking even farther head, almost sprinting in his steps. "If you're going to be in an emo mood, don't expect me to deal with you!"

"An emo mood," Vincent looks at the sky. Screw that. He's an entirely different person, not in a mood. It's like waking up in a body that isn't his. Foreign, unfamiliar, but novelty.

"Sorry, just tired," he lies. Is everything he says going to be a lie from now on? Time will only tell. "I'm going to be successful, you know that?"

"Of course I know that," Diedrich smiles. "Even if you do stupid things sometimes,"

Vincent shakes his head. "I'm not going to do another stupid thing. I'll become successful at all costs, fuelled by spite and nothing else,"

*

**Present Day**

"You seem different," Adrian looks at him lovingly, the silver-haired boy's eyes flashing in the darkness.

Vincent's lifeless eyes stare right back at him. He smirks. "Different how?"

_Can he figure it out? Oh, this is so exciting!_

But Adrian doesn't even try. Instead, he just smiles, and accepts. He accepts Vincent, whether he changes or not.

_It's been necessary for me to control others around me. Everyone around me. But I've never been able to control him, and yet here he is. In the most prominent and wonderful place in my life._

_He calls me out on shit. I never do anything he doesn't figure out eventually. I've never lied to him with ease. He challenges me, and it feels... such a word is absurd, but healthy._

_I don't need to control Adrian._

"I feel," he states suddenly, awaiting questioning from Adrian.

Adrian just smiles and takes his hand. "Is that good?"

Good. _Is it good?_

"I'm still experimenting," is the verdict.

"Okay, I'll be here if you need me,"

"I won't," Vincent kisses his forehead, feeling silver hair tickling his face. "But I appreciate it anyway,"

_And I do._


	12. Less Than Perfect

Adrian gulps as he slips his hands into his coat pockets, ensuring there's nothing illicit inside them. He and Vincent walk up the path into the police station, the autumn darkness intruding on their late afternoon activities.

"Soon it'll by dark by this time," Vincent looks far into the distance, even if it's just an expanse of midnight sky.

The taller boy turns and looks at him. "You don't have to keep making small talk,"

"I know, this is just awkward,"

The helpdesk looks more like a dentist's waiting room than a police station, although Vincent hasn't ever seen a the inside of a police station before. He was expecting iron bars and big glass cages, not a plant in the corner and cushioned seats.

Vincent speaks to a boring-sounding man at the desk and they try to coerce him away form Adrian and down a corridor, but he demands his 'emotional support witness' accompany him. The metal detector at the door feels a little more on-trend for the police station aesthetic.

They enter another room and it looks exactly like their school staff room where wineaholic English teachers meet for book clubs. Vincent sits before a screen and is taken through each picture in the evidence pouch. Some were taken by Adrian himself, hanging outside Vincent's window and taking undercover shots from between the gap in the curtains. Others were taken by Tanaka, are of poorer quality and show a timeline of abuse throughout Vincent's life.

"Can you tell me about this picture?" The kind-looking officer slides one towards Vincent. He looks about nine, his pale skin shines through even against a white-tiled background as deep puce bruises cover his throat and collarbone area. With a sudden jolt of shock, Adrian understands why they're asking about this picture.

From the angle it was taken at, Vincent would have been able to see who took that picture of him. They're trying to figure out who the anonymous source was, more specifically...

 _This is Cedric Phantomhive's defence._ Adrian deduces. _He must be claiming he turned those photos in himself as a way to confess._

There's too much evidence for Cedric Phantomhive to enter a plea of not-guilty, but if the courts think he turned himself in, his sentence will be lessened. _Very clever._

Adrian bites his lip anxiously, expecting Vincent to say at any moment that his father or their butler took that picture. Vincent only stares at it for a few minutes as if to discern all its clues.

"Apologies, I cant tell you much," The teenager sighs and looks at the officer. "I think I must have been unconscious when this was taken..."

Adrian grins and puts his hands back in his coat pockets, waiting until the mini-interview is over and Vincent asks some questions of his own.

"Will I have to testify?"

"Most likely," the officer admits with a small sigh, her eyes full of sympathy. "It won't be a long trial, but there are some issues with sentencing and plea bargains he could take,"

"How long is this going to go on for?" Vincent doesn't show it, but Adrian can tell how tired he is. He hasn't been sleeping, how could he when everything is still so uncertain?

"Honestly, it could be months,"

Vincent feels like throwing up, but instead he holds his dry retches until he's outside with Adrian. They walk down the riverbank arm-in-arm, slipping into the clearing opposite Phantomhive manor.

"A dead fox," Adrian observes, staring at it buried among thin, broken twigs. It lies with most of its skull stripped off, and some of its leg, but the rest of its fur looks clean and fresh. 

"Maybe you could show me some of your skills as an undertaker," Vincent suggests, looking down at it with a sad expression.

Adrian turns to him. "Really?"

"I won't be grossed out,"

First, Adrian gets rid of the flies. Determining a cause of death would be pointless, and too difficult. He's fascinated by the differences in rates of decomposition, a pristine white skull stripped down and yet the rest of he body fresh - it must have been buzzards. Why eat only the face and one leg, though? He uses twigs to dig a moat around the body before using a stick to put it in the grave, burying it well.

"It's the most I can do without conducting an actual examination," Adrian explains.

"That's fine," Vincent leans against his boyfriend, clasping his waist to absorb his comforting essence. "The fact that someone cared enough to bury Cubone is enough,"

"You named him Cubone?" Adrian grins. "I never thought you were so sentimental,"

"Humanity can burn alive in its own failings for all I care, rot in the fiery torments of Hell," Vincent spits hatefully, staring at the burial site of Cubone the fox. "Animals, however, are innocent and do not deserve to die prematurely, without cause or reason. He clearly wasn't hunted, and he doesn't look old, he's just... dead, and that's sad,"

Adrian feels like, for the first time he's seeing Vincent without the protective veil of faux-charisma over his face. It makes sense that he'd release it around animals, they have nothing but the best intentions. He smiles and rests his head atop Vincent's, feeling the hard surface of his skull.

He smiles and sits on the ledge of a wall, staring down at the large block of moss-covered concrete left to rot away here for decades. "This was a railway station, right? In the days of Inspector Colbeck?"

"Inspector Colbeck is a fictional detective from one of your books," Vincent chuckles. "But yes, this was a railway station in... I believe the early 20th century, during the peak of coal mining,"

"History is fascinating, I love the Victorian era," Adrian inspects the heavy concrete, amazed that anyone managed to transport them. "I love the cobblestones of old London, the nostalgic taverns and a wonderful labyrinth of unsolved crimes during an era of explosive developments in biological science,"

Vincent shrugs. "I like the aristocracy,"

"Of course you do, bloody feudalist," Adrian kisses him, nibbling slightly at Vincent's soft lips maintained by cherry flavoured Chapstick. He starts humming ' _I Kissed A Boy_ ' while they go back along the riverbank, coming to a halt before the gates of Vincent's old grammar school.

"I used to go here, they always lock the gates when the building is closed," The short teenager smiles and looks up at Adrian. "You look like you're planning something,"

"As you said, nobody's here, so I say we jump the fence and find a lovely, comfortable place to sit down," Adrian grabs the bars of the fence, gripping his fingers between them. "I must say, it's always been my fantasy to defile a prestigious institution like this one,"

He smirks at the and kneels down, making an arch out of his arms. "Grip the fence and climb over me, eh?"

The smaller boy looks at the fence, but with the tension of someone scared but determined enough to try anyway, he mounts Adrian's hands and pulls himself to the top of the fence. Vincent sits over the beam as Adrian guides him down from his vantage point. With a final leap, Vincent is over the fence.

Adrian hops it more expertly, perfectly aware that Vincent knows where he gained those skills.

Behind the fence, the light seems to dim even further, a deep blue as the last of the sun disappears behind the treeline. Adrian's eyes shine like fireflies, like a cat's eyes, like-

He grabs Vincent's hand and they find a corner of the rugby pitch by the trees. They sit together, staring out at the vast expanse of perfectly manicured grass. The building itself towers over them, making Adrian feel unnaturally small. They shuffle close, huddling for warmth in this tiny corner of the pitch, of the district, of the world. The illusion of permanence descends upon them, that as long as they stay here, nothing can hurt them.

Adrian thinks of Vincent's issue with the police, but he doesn't know how to fix it. That's rare for him, and he worries.

As if Vincent can read his mind, he takes Adrian's hand in his own. "It's not your responsibility to save me,"

"I fucking know that," he looks down at his feet, stolen Vans with bloodstains on the heels.

"Why can't you treat me as you treat everything else?" Vincent asks, fascinated by Adrian's psychology. "You don't care about anything, why care about me?"

This makes Adrian think for a moment. "There's a reason I haven't ran away from William. I could, if I wanted to, but I haven't,"

"Yes, why?" Vincent pushes.

"Most people think I'm nothing but a spectacle. They see me, they think I look strange. They're interested in my image, the illusion of me, the mystery of me. You knew everything about me the moment you saw me, yet you stayed interested. The same thing happened with William. I care about you because you care enough to want stay with me,"

"Because the consequence of you not caring is me leaving?" Vincent nods. "And that scares you, because you've never needed to cling to someone before,"

"Tch, I hate how perceptive you are, fucking smug Victorian-nobleman ass,"

Vincent finds this extremely witty and bursts out laughing. "Yes, many people are put off by that, but I can always hook them back in if they're interesting enough," He places his cold hands on Adrian's cheeks, forcing him to look him in the face. "And you are more than interesting enough for me,"

Adrian looks away, hiding his face. _I'm a fool._

"You never have to burden yourself with me, or anything to do with this. Allow me to deal with this, as I can take care of myself," he places his hand on Adrian's knee, sliding up his thigh. Adrian closes his eyes, he doesn't want this right now. Vincent senses it immediately and removes his hand.

"Sorry," 

"It's okay, you never have to apologise for that. Can I hold your hand?" Adrian lets him entwine their fingers, closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, softly clanging against the fence.

The blue-haired boy strokes his hand, smiling softly as he stares at the gleaming green eyes through silver curtains.

Adrian stares straight into the distance, he's still thinking. About Vincent, and what he said. Vincent knows everything about him, yet is still fascinated by him. A paradox in itself, but one Adrian isn't keen to expose. And now he's caught in the rift between being a vigilante and being a supportive boyfriend. Two extremely polarised parts of his personality that have come into conflict in a way he never thought they would.

"Vincent?"

Vincent turns to look at him. "Now, don't ask me another question, I've been too lenient in giving you information today already,"

"What about a question about myself?" he asks, and Vincent pauses for a moment before nodding his acceptance. "D'you believe that if I tried to fix all this, I could?"

"What do you mean fix things?" Vincent asks for clarification just to satiate his curiosity.

"Believe that if I wanted to end all this, make it go away, make your dad go away, make the police stop questioning you, that I could?"

It takes some time for Vincent to answer, which worries Adrian. "I believe you have the potential to. And I believe you'd do it. As for whether you'd succeed... I don't know. Everyone has their limits,"

"Thanks for the honesty," Adrian knows he shouldn't feel betrayed, but he does. It's not Vincent's problem, he isn't betrayed by Vincent. He's betrayed by himself for not being infallible.

He hears some whooping and shouting from beyond the gates at the other side of the school.

"Local adults like to trespass to play rugby in here, entitled private university brats," Vincent sneers in snug distaste.

"I mean, if they're here to play rugby, what's the issue?" Adrian laughs. "This is a rugby field,"

"The issue is that they barely even play rugby, just drink and shout and throw a ball around," Vincent stands up. "We should get out of here,"

"Well, property should be distributed based on use, so since they're using it and want to use it, and it's currently unused, I don't have a problem with it," Adrian shrugs, kneeling down at the fence to help Vincent up.

Vincent puts his foot in Adrian's hands. "Bloody leftist,"

"Fucking Tory," Adrian grind and hoists Vincent over.

"I think... I think it's time to go home," Adrian stares into the velvet darkness. His eyes no longer shine.

The blue-haired boy sighs and smiles sadly. "Very well, but you have to carry me back,"

"Oh, naturally," Adrian bends down a little to help Vincent up.

Vincent takes the opportunity to slap his ass before jumping on his back

"Asshole," Adrian makes sure to jump down every pavement to give Vincent a bumpy ride home.


	13. Selfish Selflessness

The moment the couple enter the school building, Grell jumps between them, dragging them together. "Undertaker, you wonderful matchmaker, I could kiss you if I didn't have someone already on my radar!" she lovingly wraps her arms around him, hanging off his shoulder and grinning up at him with adoration.

Adrian smirks. "I assume Red messaged you?"

"She did!" Grell turns in a pirouette, her skirt goes spin. "Madame Red is wonderful, smart, talented..." she sighs dreamily. "And she likes red just as much as I do, someone so perfect is hard to find, darling!"

Adrian quirks an eyebrow, holding up his boyfriend's hand. "Technically, it was Vincent who 'found her',"

"Oh, don't be so modest," Grell dismisses. "You're the one who sent her my way, and for that, I'm sure I owe you my life!"

Grell bows lowly to him. "I'm forever in your debt,"

Adrian grins. "Great, you can buy me lunch, then," he pulls her up by the shoulders and pushes her towards the cafeteria line.

"This is very rude, no way to treat a lady!" Grell squeals as Adrian shoves her into the line. He's unnaturally hungry.

Diedrich arrives and stands beside Vincent, watching the scene with slight disdain. Why do the people Vincent finds interesting always have to be so loud? The blue-haired boy has multiple 'types' and yet everyone he chooses seems handpicked to irritate Diedrich.

Suddenly, Adrian feels someone's hand gripping his shoulder too hard. He turns to see a teacher looking down at him sternly.

"The fuck d'you want?" he quirks an eyebrow. Diedrich's eyes widen in shock, he never thought anyone would talk to a teacher like that! Even Adrian, who's 'I don't give a fuck' vibes seemed nothing more than fake teenage bravado. If only he knew. 

The teacher's eye twitches and he spins Adrian towards the headmaster's office. "Adrian, come to the office with me, please. Vincent, you as well,"

They wonder what they've done.

The teacher drags them into the bare white conference office where two police officers sit in their bulky, neon green uniforms. Adrian knows that those uniforms indicate that they have tasers. The officers gesture for the couple to sit opposite them and they do. Under the table, Adrian clutches Vincent's hand.

"We want to conduct an interview, can we do it here or would you rather come down to the station with us?" one of the officer offers. 

"Here," Vincent decides for the both of them.

They start asking questions not of Vincent, but of Adrian. The silver-haired boy answers them truthfully, albeit surprised by them.

"A woman witnessed someone of your description breaking into Phantomhive manor on no less than two different occasions. What were you doing there?" they ask for the fourth time. For an 'interview', this feels a lot like an interrogation.

"I came for a visit, and snuck into Vincent's room, and left," Adrian shrugs, eyes darting between the door and the window.

Then, a new question for the first time in two hours. "Are you aware that the Phantomhive manor carries security cameras?"

Both Vincent and Adrian stiffen in their seats. No, neither of them were aware of that fact. The officers give them a few seconds to process this before standing up.

"You collected evidence a total of seven times this month, the dates match up with time stamps on photographs gathered. You had conclusive evidence of domestic violence and assault, yet did not report these crimes to the authorities,"

"I had to collect enough evidence to make sure," Adrian states with conviction. "If I reported it too early, there might not have been enough to convict him on. You think I trust fucking Scotland Yard to convict a domestic abuser? I'm not delusional,"

The officer purses his lips, trying unsuccessfully to hide rage with mild annoyance. So many people think it works when, in fact, it never does.

"Adrian Spears, I'm arresting you on charges of trespassing, breaking and entering, perverting the course of justice and acting in violation of the Privacy Act," 

The officers stand up and so does Adrian. Vincent watches in mute horror as he turns around and places his hands behind his back. The silver-haired boy stares down at Vincent and for half a moment, flashes him a grin. He doesn't listen to the officers reading his rights. His face falls again with the click of the handcuffs and Adrian is led out in front of the entire school.

He looks out the window of the police car, at Vincent standing by the doors. He sees the processor run in overdrive in Vincent's computer of a brain and fights back cackles of amusement. He was bound to get arrested sooner or later, he just never expected it to be as a vigilante.

*

The cell door opens and Adrian stretches his arms above his head. He groans and his bones crack. "Finally! What took you so long?"

"What took-?!" Williams eyebrows are shot up past his hairline. Vincent stands behind him, looking immediately terrified of the teacher. Both of them are rather thankful that William doesn't have a knife on him. He sighs and looks down, pinching the bridge of his nose. His glasses fall off and he doesn't even flinch. "Breaking and entering, Adrian?! You have absolutely no idea what I am going to do to you," 

"The security cameras were a surprise, I'll admit," Adrian sighs. "I didn't know about them, I'd hoped they wouldn't have enough evidence to get me on anything more than trespassing and that justice thing,"

"Wait," Willian suddenly breaks his trance. "You expected them...?"

Adrian's attention turns to Vincent. "You didn't tell him? I know you figured it out,"

William looks between them incredulously. "Tell me in the car, I'm not spending another second in this... institution," He feels the germs creeping up his shoes, up under his legs. He needs a shower. He needs to wash his car. He needs to wash the cell itself.

In the car, Vincent explains Adrian's plan. "I never anticipated such a move from you. Seems like you won this game of tag between us,"

William digs his nails into the steering wheel. "Someone tell me what is going on,"

"Adrian phoned the police and acted like a bystander giving them information on my father's case. He claimed he saw someone climbing into the window of the Phantomhive manor. His plan was to claim that I was helping him gather evidence on my father. The problem is that, unbeknownst to both Adrian and I, my father had security cameras on the garden and caught him breaking in several times without my help. That's probably why he hasn't been at school much," 

Adrian corroborates with a nod then elaborates. "My intention was for the police to realise that I was the anonymous source, which would destroy Cedric Phantomhive's defence and maximise his sentence. It just went a bit farther than I hoped. Well, we've succeeded, they know he didn't turn himself in and likely never would," 

Willian stares at the road ahead and speaks through his teeth. "You must stop making it impossible to be angry with you when you do idiotic things,"

"Does that mean I don't get grounded?" Adrian sing-songs and tilts his head, giving him the cutest possible eyes he can. And Adrian can make some expert-tier cute eyes.

William sighs. "You have acted like an idiot and you may get a criminal record. But I can't fault your intentions,"

Adrian mentally celebrates his vigilante victory the entire drive home.

* 

William makes a beeline for a shower immediately and Vincent pushes Adrian into his bedroom. The taller boy raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend before he is suddenly slammed into the wardrobe. Vincent grinds his teeth while his eyes shine with a sadistic fury. His mask has slipped off.

Adrian's eyes widen a little before he speaks, slightly terrified of Vincent. But then, one is always slightly terrified of Vincent. Here, trapped against the wall, his eyes are as cold and unforgiving as they are beautiful.

Adrian bites his lip and lets out a nervous chuckle "Come on, I suceeded, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," Vincent states, his voice and expression emotionless. "That's exactly why you need to be punished," Adrian feels the sudden stinging on his cheek.

The slap sends him to the ground, he looks up at Vincent, the shorter boy standing over him imperiously. "I told you not to get involved, and what did you do? You didn't listen to me. Does what I say, what I want, suddenly mean nothing to you because you know what's best?"

Adrian bites his lip and looks down in shame because it's true, he didn't think of Vincent's feelings when he planned this. The people-pleaser who thinks only of Vincent didn't think of him in the most important moment. A cruel irony.

"I'm sorry, Vincent, I didn't think..."

"I know you 'didn't think'," Vincent makes quotation marks in anger. "You didn't think of what it could do to me, or to you, or to both of us. This is meant to be a symbiotic relationship, Mr Mad Scientist!"

Vincent looks away, unable to stand the sight of drain's misery lest he give him an undeserved break. "You're the most selfish person I've ever met, you don't care about others,"

It's Adrian's turn to become illogically angry. He stands up, rubbing his face. He could probably win a fight against Vincent, but his mind disallows him from even trying. " _I'm_ being selfish? Or maybe I'm just the first person you've met that you haven't been able to manipulate into doing whatever you want. You shatter the autonomy of every person you meet and bend their will to make them do your fucked-up bidding. Turn them into whatever you want. And I think you're so fucking scared because you've finally found someone you can't do that to,"

At this, Vincent starts to laugh. Not a cruel laugh, or an accusatory laugh. A genuine laugh. "That's exactly why I like you, or couldn't you figure that out?" he grins, letting Adrian lose himself in the handsome features. 

Adrian pouts. "Don't try and turn this into a compliment!"

"Why not? That's exactly what it is," Vincent allows some giggles to escape. "That's exactly what draws me to you, I'm just surprised you lived up to my expectations. Very rarely does anyone provide me with this much entertainment,"

Adrian sighs in relief and crashes into a hug. "Please don't scare me like that again, I thought you hated me,"

"I won't," Vincent promises, reaching up and softly playing with his hair. "But you must consult me in all further plans. It doesn't matter what they are, you consult me. Do you understand?"

The tall boy pulls away and grins. "Aww, but then how will I make life exciting for you? I know you're dreadfully bored with the world,"

"You're right, I am," Vincent reaches up and wipes some of the tears from Adrian's face. "That's why I want to plan schemes _with you_. Together," he takes Adrian's hand in his own. "Because together, nobody has the faintest chance of stopping us,"

Adrian looks into his eyes and for the first time, isn't terrified of Vincent at all.

**I kinda hate this chapter, but at the same time it was fun to write. Sorry for the wait.**


	14. Evidence?

** October **

Adrian stares at the floor as he feels tears rolling down his cheeks. Today is the day, D-Day if you will. Cedric Phantomhive's sentencing.

Witnesses in cases like these aren't taken to the courthouse itself. Mostly to protect them from their accusers, partially so they can tell the truth without feeling threatened for being anywhere near their accusers. Instead, police escort Vincent and Adrian to a small room at the top floor of Wembley stadium as they await the time to testify.

A man, neither of them is sure what his role is, enters to give them an introductory presentation.

"The sentencing hearings run from now until three in the afternoon. When your name is called, please proceed to the booth," He holds up his arm towards an even smaller room, inside which are two chairs in single-file and a monitor screen. "You will be connected via video call to the courtroom. The judge will ask you some questions, then the prosecution. Finally, you will be questioned by the defence. If your phone goes off..."

Vincent doesn't need to hear this part. He waits for the presentation to be over and asks. "Can I watch the rest of the sentencing?" He wants to see it all. The presentation of evidence, his father snivelling on the stand. He knows Adrian wants to see it too. Both of them are dying to see it.

"Unfortunately not," the man sighs. "You'll only be connected for your testimony,"

He does a meagre demonstration of how the kettle works and points to a selection of old magazines on the coffee table. Then, he leaves then alone.

Adrian groans at the boring entertainment selection and goes to raid the cupboards for biscuits. "At least we get a day off school," he quips over his shoulder.

Vincent rolls his eyes and crosses his legs over, staring at the ceiling. "There aren't any cameras here, you know,"

Adrian turns around, a biscuit hanging halfway out his mouth. He flicks the kettle on an readies two mugs, remembering how Vincent takes his tea. "What are you thinking?"

Vincent lowers his head to smirk at him, stretching out on the couch to expose himself. "We might have to wait all day to be called on,"

Adrian stiffens. "You know there's probably cameras in here?"

Vincent looks up at the ceiling again. "There are none, I checked,"

Adrian looks at the patterned couch he's sitting on. "That couch is fucking gross, I'm not touching it,"

Vincent glares at him, irritated. "Touch me, then,"

Adrian pushes the coffee table out of the way and kneels between Vincent's legs. He stares at the crotch of his jeans for a moment before slowly unzipping them.

During his ministrations, he pauses with paranoia when he hears the slightest noise. He's terrified that the door with burst open, but at this same time, that makes this kind of hot.

Vincent severely overestimated how much time it takes him to get off. After twenty minutes, they're back to sitting on the couch against the wall sipping tea.

"This is fucking boring," Adrian checks his WiFi for the twelfth time, still none.

A couple of hours later, the boring man returns and leads them into the small room. Vincent is being questioned first, so he sits at the head chair while Adrian sits behind him. "Do we just awkwardly switch chairs in between questioning?"

"I think so," the man admits.

The monitor flickers on and a woman wearing long black robes and a white wig appears. The judge's face is kind, but her glasses give the impression of wisdom and power. Her voice too, is kind but abrupt and it makes both boys attentive to her questions.

The prosecutor is a soft-faced man with no notable features. _Yikes,_ Vincent winces. _This man cannot carry himself in a courtroom._

He asks Vincent a few questions. Mostly clarifying what happened throughout the years, some follow-ups about dates and logistical details. We won't go into those questions so Vincent won't get traumatised.

The next person to ask questions is Cedric Phantomhive's defence lawyer. The face that comes onscreen is one Vincent distrusts from the second he sees it. The sly smirk sends shivers of rage down his spine. He knows this man. He remembers him.

"I don't have any questions for you, Vincent," he rests his chin on his hand and points behind him. "I'd rather question your little pet,"

Adrian sticks his head our from behind Vincent. "Huh? Me?" 

"Yes, you," his closed-mouthed smile spreads across his face. Adrian and Vincent squeeze past each other to switch chairs. The lawyer begins talking to Adrian and Vincent is left feeling invisible, sitting between them as an inanimate object in their conversation.

"My name is Aleister, don't you notice something about me?" is voice is edged with a threat. Adrian doesn't care, as he never does.

"Eh, no?" he squints through the grainy screen. "Should I?"

Aleister sighs dramatically as he lets a fake tear roll down his cheek "I'm offended. You forgot me,"

Adrian narrows his eyes, getting annoyed. "Are you going to ask me about the sentencing now?"

"Oh, of course not. I have no questions about the sentencing," Aleister waves his hand dismissively. "He's a child abuser and he deserves to go down for the remainder of his life,"

Adrian quirks an eyebrow. "Do you know what a defence lawyer is?"

"Something you'll be needing very soon," the man chuckles. "Evidence goes both ways, Adrian Crevan, and Cedric Phantomhive has the money to find as much evidence as he likes,"

Vincent thinks he hears a song of rage playing in Adrian's heartbeat. He reaches back to take Adrian's hand but his boyfriend declines.

"What did you just call me?" his voice is different, it growls out a threat in the form of a question. As if the answer will decide Aleister's state as alive or dead. He reaches out and grips the sides of the monitor, gritting his teeth with rage.

"Temper, temper," Aleister tuts. "Don't you know you can't attack someone through a screen?"

The screen shifts to an image of the judge, an appalled expression on her face. "I'm very sorry about that, boys," Adrian gently sits back in his seat. "I don't know why that happened and it shouldn't have been allowed to continue. I will be holding Barrister Aleister Chambers in contempt of court. We don't have any more questions for you,"

The screen clicks off and the boys sit in silence for a few passing seconds. Adrian trembles in his seat, seizing up when Vincent places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

They go back into the room and a strange, new calm settles over Adrian. "He's wrong,"

The teenager looks at his boyfriend with serious eyes "I believe you, but are you certain? I know what my father is capable of and this is absolutely something he would do,"

"The Phantomhive Prick likely did look into my parents death, but he's wrong about the evidence. There is no evidence,"

Vincent bites his knuckle. "When do you think that we'll hear my father's sentence?"

"Soon, once everything is over," Adrian looks down at him. "We can go now,"

Adrian smokes a cigarette in the empty car park. He paces around the perimeter fence, staring at the faded, overgrown wildlife that threatens to creep in. Vincent squats against the wall and watches him.

William's car appears in the car park and Adrian snuffs put his cigarette. They climb inside. He immediately notices the tension.

"What happened? Was it a difficult questioning?" _Do they need to go into witness protection? This is because I didn't clean my desk yesterday isn't it?!_

Neither boy answers, so he asks a different question. "When will you hear his sentence?"

As if William had summoned an angel, Vincent's phone sings it's ominous tune.

*

Six years. Cedric Phantomhive is being sentenced to six years for years of torturing Vincent and his mother.

"It's better than I expected," Vincent sighs, closing his eyes against the living room wall. William and Adrian sit at the dining room table in a somber silence."At least there's a restraining order against him. He can't come near me, not ever again,"

Vincent was granted the most powerful type of restraining order in the country. And witness protection if Cedric ever comes near him again. Not that it would keep him away.

Vincent and Adrian retreat to Adrian's bedroom. Vincent sits against the coffin. "Start talking,"

"There's nothing to say, I really don't remember him," Adrian searches his brain but the man's image isn't there. And he'd remember a face like that.

"I know," Vincent nods, he always knows when people are lying. "What about the evidence he threatened you with? It's about your parents' death, isn't it?"

Adrian can't help a chuckle escaping, he looks at his boyfriend. "That's all it could be about,"

"Well, take me through exactly what happened when they died - and I want to know everything, Undertaker,".

Adrian stands up and paces again, up and down his bedroom. "To the public, we were the typical rich owners of an old-money funeral company. Behind the scenes, in high society, my family was shunned for our connections to The Underworld. We were criminals,"

Vincent nods, so that's why his mother asked about the Crevans.

"We were involved with a London gang, and they came over to our house frequently. My parents didn't care what they did to me,"

"They gave you your scars, didn't they?"

"Some of them," Adrian shrugs. "Most of them did ceome from the fire,"

Adrian continues. "They had a party one night, attended by every high-ranking crime boss in the city. I got scared, I was only seven, so I ran out the room they were all in and went to one of the back rooms in the parlour. There was a coffin, and a corpse. I wasn't expecting the casket to be open, it scared me and I jumped back. I knocked into one of the candles accidentally and it set fire to the coffin,"

Adrian pictures the slow but continuous burning as if it's happening now, in front of his eyes. "I was so scared, but then I calmed down. I realised how I could get rid of them all. So I ran around the room and turned candles over, burning the curtains and coffins and carpet. But I got trapped and fire appeared before the window. I found another room, I crawled through that window. The police investigated the fire, they knew it was arson,"

"Because it had multiple starting points," Vincent nods. Fire burns hottest at its starting point, it's a major indicator of arson.

Adrian nods and keeps going. "Of course, all the deaths were high-ranking criminals. Scotland Yard could have had dozens of suspects and no evidence to charge any of them. Hundreds of people wanted revenge on my parents. The 7 year old victim of the fire wasn't exactly high on the list,"

Vincent waits for him to keep talking but then realises he's finished. "Wait, is that all?"

Adrian nods. "That's why I'm sure he's bluffing 'bout the having evidence. Because there can't possibly _be_ any evidence. There wasn't then and there isn't now,"

"I believe you," Vincent smirks. "We did manage to take down my father, after all. This is probably his final bid to manipulate me before he's gone forever,"


	15. About the Characters: Diedrich

Diedrich doesn't know much about his grandparents. All he knows about them is that they emigrated from Germany. When he was little - very little - he made up a story of a family treasure his grandparents smuggled out of Germany to England, which his parents used to grow their fortune. But as he got older, when he turned five, he realised that his parents are rich not because of some illicit fortune, but because their positions in the academic field fund a ludicrous, new-money lifestyle with a detached house a few rooms shy of a mansion.

As his parents become richer, and their obsessive disorder becomes more and more extreme, Diedrich finds himself at the age of six, joining a private boarding school deep in the English countryside.

Diedrich and his parents wait in the car park for his entry to the boarding school. Staring at all the other children fires shots of anxiety through his heart. He grips his mother's dress, oblivious to her tensing at the touch of sticky hands. She gently pries him off and kneels down. "I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends. And don't worry about people being mean to you, you can scare them away!"

"Yes, mother,"

Diedrich has always been tall. Perhaps freakishly so. He always stands at the very back in pictures and yet sticks out like a sore thumb. Rather than source of power, it becomes a catalyst for insecurities.

A teacher grabs his hand and pulls him into the boarding school, as he wipes his tears on the scratchy grey blazer that is regulation for this school.

He calms down by the time they reach the classroom. He feels the rest of the children, already in their seats, staring at him. The teacher pulls out her seating plan and of course, Diedrich's height puts him in the very back row.

"Next to Vincent Phantomhive, please,"

Diedrich doesn't like sitting at the back. The scary and rude and annoying kids sit at the back. Vincent Phantomhive is small and non-threatening. But when he looks up at Diedrich and smiles, there's something unsettling in it.

The lesson begins, just administrative logistics really. How to behave in a classroom, where to put their coats, how to ask for help. They begin with reciting the alphabet and counting to ten. Diedrich knows how to do these, but he recites along with the rest of the children.

"A-B-C-D-"

"Oh shut up,"

Diedrich blinks and tunes to see Vincent's attention on him, still smiling. But why is he smiling if he just said something mean?

"We're not allowed to talk," Diedrich whispers.

"You clearly know this but you're still counting. Are you such a goody-two-shoes?" Vincent giggles to himself. Diedrich ignores him and watches the teacher, continuing to recite the letters. Until he feels a jab in his side.

He looks at Vincent who whistles innocently, looking way from him with that same devious smirk. He frowns, annoyed, and goes back to listening.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Diedrich grits his teeth, starting to get irritated. He looks at Vincent again to catch him in the act, but the smaller boy looks more innocent than before.

Poke.

Poke.

_Poke._

His eyes fill with tears. Why is this boy so mean? In a flash of rage more intense than he's ever felt before, he pushes Vincent off his chair. "Stop it!"

The lesson stops and everyone stares over at him in stunned silence. Diedrich sees the accusatory eyes on him and stammers, starting to sob into his hands. "He- He kept annoying me!"

Vincent conceals his face between his arms, so that if anyone saw his shaking body, they'd think he was crying. But from the angle Diedrich sees, it's clear he's holding in a tirade of laughter.

The teacher rushes over and grabs Vincent, coddling him close and rubbing his head. "Did you hit your head against the wall?"

Vincent nods, his face still covered. From between his hands, he peeks out at Diedrich and looks at him with such sadistic pleasure. "I was annoying him," Vincent admits.

The teacher takes Diedrich to the headmaster's office

*

Diedrich gets his evening playtime suspended and is sent to the detention room instead. He sits in a seat at the front of the room, clenching his fists to stop himself crying. He's never been in trouble before! And this is such a painful knot in his stomach that churns and makes his feel sick.

The door opens and Vincent waltzes in, smiling the moment he sees Diedrich. Diedrich looks back with wide eyes red-rimmed by tears. Vincent walks over and sits beside him. "I told them I annoyed you so they gave me five minutes detention," Diedrich doesn't reply. "Do you have to stay here for the whole hour?"

"Go way," Diedrich crosses his arms. "I'm not talking to you,"

"Why not?" the smile doesn't falter. "I'm just trying to be friends,"

"I can make my own friends," Diedrich turns away and works on his apology worksheet.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Vincent smiles and stares ahead. He never starts his apology worksheet.

*

Vincent was right not to be so sure about it. After he'd pushed Vincent over in front of all their classmates, everyone ignores Diedrich's attempts to talk, and instead treats him like the degenerate they think he is. After an attempt to be friends with one of the girls in this class to which she accused him of 'Following' her, Diedrich runs off crying.

He finds a wall to sit against and cry, feeling rejected by everyone he could talk to. He'll never make any friends now!

He hears the crackle of footsteps against the gravel and looks up to see Vincent. He wipes his tears, but Vincent has seen him cry at least twice now, he's starting to get used to it.

"Leave me alone!"

Vincent just sits against the wall too, right beside him. "Why are you such a goody-goody?"

"To make my parents proud," he says quickly. Vincent seems surprised by the answer.

"Your parents are proud of you?"

Diedrich nods.

"You're interesting," he thinks aloud. "But you'd be a lot more interesting if you weren't so wet all the time,"

Diedrich shrugs. "I don't want grown ups to be angry and shout at me, it feels really bad!"

"See, that's the thing," Vincent smirks and winks. Diedrich doesn't know how to wink. "You don't have to follow all the little rules. As long as you follow the big ones, like 'don't hit anyone' then you can break lots of little rules and nobody notices. See this-"

Vincent takes a few steps to the right and passes the line into the big kids' playground. "I can do this because I don't talk back, so the teachers all think I'm good and nobody is keeping n eye on me,"

Diedrich doesn't know what he's talking about, but it sounds complicated. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Cause you don't have any other friends," Vincent shrugs. "So you're stuck with me now,"

Reluctantly, Diedrich stands up and crosses his arms. "Fine! You can be my friend if you want to be so much,"

Vincent nods. "Excellent,"

*

**Six Years Later**

Diedrich plays rugby. With his tall, muscular statue he excels at sports. He's played lots of different ones - karate, judo, football, cricket, and now he plays rugby. It was a miracle, but somehow he convinced Vincent to play too. Of course Vincent made captain. Vincent always makes captain, even if he doesn't want to play in the first place.

In the changing rooms, Diedrich hears a lot of rumours. He hears rumours about people smoking, drinking, and the main one is 'who's gay?'. It's meant to be one in ten people, and there are fifteen players in their rugby team, so one of them should be gay. Not only does Diedrich wonder who it is as much as them, but he's terrified that it might be him.

He's been having some disturbing thought recently, mainly about Vincent. He still thinks girls are gross, while his peers are beginning to notice them. All he wants is to be with Vincent. Spend all his time with Vincent, especially at sleepovers,

The first time he brought Vincent home, his parents were over the moon. Vincent was unusually respectful of what the other kids always called 'weird' rules at his house, which made Diedrich optimistically happy. Vincent didn't date they they could only eat spaghetti with butter for dinner or that he had to leave his shoes at the door, and wear bags around his socks. He just smiled and talked Diedrich's parents into letting him stay over for the night.

Of course, Vincent never wants to go home. Diedrich sighs now, staring across the changing room at Vincent. His eyes linger past his thoughts before he realises he's staring, blushes and collects his things. He runs out the changing room. Vincent watches. Diedrich didn't know he was watching. He never knows.

*

**Four years later.**

"You have a crush on me?" Vincent looks unimpressed. His eyes slant down and stare into Diedrich's soul.

He really had put all his effort into that card. He made Vincent the perfect Valentine's Day card, having bought craft supplies and spent over an hour glueing them all down and creating layered, 3-D flowery meadow. He'd hoped Vincent would like it, but the shorter boy just looks at him with pity.

"I-I thought maybe..."

"Diedrich, I've told you before. I don't know if I'm gay. I know you are and that's fine," Diedrich blushes. "But I'm not interested enough for that. It's not... something that interests me,"

Diedrich's eye twitches with hurt. _You mean I don't interest you._

"But I guess we can go on a date,"

"Really?!" he lurches forward, grabbing the other end of the card, praying silently to whatever God may be listening.

"Yeah... maybe it'll help me figure things out," Vincent shrugs, and smiles. "But as long as we move slowly, and we're just dating. Don't confess your love to me or anything,"

"I won't, don't worry," Diedrich smiles, though hurt once again. He's happy they're 'dating' but it remains emotionally one-sided.

*

 ** _Diedrich:_** ** _I know you haven't made up your mind what sexuality you are but can't we just try? Why do you hate the idea of sex so much?_** he feels like an asshole the moment he sends it. But he can't take it back. Vincent knows exactly what he's thinking, as he responds with-

**_ Vincent: _ ** **_Don't feel bad. But I'm not ready to go that far._ **

**_ Diedrich: _ ** **_Yeah sorry. I don't know what I can do with this feeling._ **

**_ Vincent:  _ ** **_What do you think you can do?_ **

**_ Diedrich: _ ** **_I don't know! I really don't. Idk what to do. You are the best though. Cna we kiss more though?_ **

**_ Vincent:  _ ** **_Yeah okay_ **

**_ Diedrich:  _ ** **_Only of you want I don't want to force you into anything_ **

**_ Vincent:  _ ** **_It's fine._ **

**_Diedrich: I love you. I really do._ **

They've only been together for two weeks, but they've known each other so long, Diedrich is sure of his feelings. But this is exactly what Vincent told him not to do. He couldn't help it though. He does love him. Diedrich closes his phone. He rolls over, still thinking he's such an asshole, and goes to sleep.

The next morning, he wakes up to a text from Vincent.

**_ Vincent:  _ ** **_Diedrich, I'm not gay. I don't know what I am, but I'm not gay. And I want to just be friends._ **

**_ Dierich:  _ ** **_Is this because of ewhat I said last night?_ **

**_ Vincent:  _ ** **_I've given you the reason. I'll see you at school and we can talk._ **

He knows that Vincent can't call at home, can't make any noise.

He doesn't go to school, instead lies on the couch all day watching box sets with his parents, who took the day off work to console him. After school should have ended, there's a rapping on the front door. Hs mother opens it.

"Vincent, please come in," his parents shuffle up the stairs and Vincent, after doing the usual-shoes-off routine, sits beside Diedrich on the couch.

They don't talk. Diedrich just cries into his shoulder. And in the end, although he still loves Vincent, he feels the bonds of friendship holding him to what they've had for years rather than what he desires.   
  
  


**I promsie I'll return to an updating schedule for this.**


	16. Everything Ties Together

**You get an extra long chapter to make go for lack of updates. Enjoy!**

Adrian wakes up for school and throws his pillow at the alarm to shut it up before going downstairs to get breakfast.

"Adrian, you're up early," William and Vincent smile. They sit at the breakfast table eating Cornflakes, the most boring of all cereal.

"You know those things were invented to kill your sex drive, right?" Adrian frowns at their choice of cereal. He pours himself a bowl of Golden Oreo cereal and scowls at William's bowl. "How the fuck can you eat that without milk?"

"Milk in cereal is disgusting," William grimaces as Adrian pours his, shuddering slightly when he adds milk.

"And the reason I'm awake so early is so I can do some volunteer work at school," he giggles at the others' shocked faces. "Are you forgetting that I have a trial coming up for my little investigation of Phantomhive manor? I have to be a model student, don't you know?"

"What kind of volunteering can you do?" William asks. "Surely nothing to do with sports or community outreach?"

Adrian smirks, looking over at Vincent. "You know, right?"

"Baking," it's a guess, Vincent's brain isn't at full capacity yet. He's barely began drinking his coffee.

"Exactly," he winks. "I can only make biscuits, but that's enough to teach a class of Year 7s," 

"It will do well for your application to university," William assesses. Adrian rolls his eyes.

*

Arriving at school, Vincent is perturbed by Diedrich's absence. He hasn't texted, nor is he at first period. Sighing over his business assignment, he bounces his leg with nerves.

 **Meanwhile**

A few minutes before classes begin, Adrian corners Diedrich at the side of the school. He drags him beyond the school gate and onto the back path. Diedrich struggles against Adrian and shouts for help, but he doesn't really fight. Vincent would never forgive him if he harmed Adrian.

Adrian pulls Diedrich under the bridge overlooking the river. Underneath the bridge is a small alcove just big enough for two people to stand a few feet apart. The darkness makes Adrian's eyes glow a strange fusion of the colours. Like light streaming through cathedral windows.

"Nice place to talk, wouldn't you say?" Adrian taps on his teeth with a long, black nail.

"What do you want?" Diedrich looks away, forcing irritation to replace the fear in his voice.

"Oh - I think you know, but maybe I overestimate you," his giggle is the same pitch as before, but is now sultry and drawn out. "I want you to tell me why you dislike me so much,"

Diedrich blinks in surprise and blushes in embarrassment, wishing his hair was long enough to cover some of his face. "I don't know what you-"

"Even Vincent has trouble lying to me," Adrian tilts his head back, staring down his nose at the taller boy.

Realising the hopelessness of lying, Diedrich acquiesces to tell the truth. "You're terrible for Vincent. I researched your family the first day we met - I know all about their dealings in the underworld! You're probably a criminal, just like them. I'm not letting you drag Vincent into that! I'm his best friend, it's my job to protect him,"

At this, Adrian laughs a genuine, roaring cackle. "Vincent's best friend? You don't know anything about Vincent,"

Diedrich grits his teeth in anger. "And you do?! In all the five minutes you've known him?! Don't test my knowledge, I've known Vincent forever! His favourite colour is gold, he likes lobster but not as much as cake, he-"

"When's the last time he cried?" Adrian asks, and Diedrich's brain cease all thought. Getting more exacerbated, yet more satisfied with each word, Adrian continues. "What does he want to do with his life? What does he dream about at night? What makes him smile?"

Diedrich pours through his memories for the answers to these, but finds nothing.

"You say you've known Vincent for years, yet he could never trust you enough to tell you about the abuse..." Adrian steps so close to Diedrich that the taller feels his breath. Long, sharpened black nails dig into Diedrich's chest, piercing holes in his shirt. "You've always been so terrified that Vincent would leave you that you neglected to act like a friend to him. That's why you hate me. I've been to Vincent what you should have been to him all along,"

The only sounds escaping Diedrich's throat are whimpers of despair. Floods of tears pour down his cheeks, the helplessness of his life catching up to him. Alarms set off in his mind as he realises how his relationship with Vincent has eroded, and even worse, that it's all his fault.

He always thought that because he wasn't interesting enough, Vincent chased more exciting things. He was wrong. The problem has always been that a friendship is supposed to be give and take, but _take_ is all Diedrich has ever done.

He's about to announce some improvised plans for suicide when Adrian looks past him at the red-haired girl who sticks her head under the bridge. "Hey lover boys, school already started, and I need Adrian to stop me dying of boredom in form room,"

Adrian spins around to face her, chuckling in surprise. "How did you find us, dear?"

Unimpressed, Grell points at Diedrich. "I can hear him crying from the sports field,"

Walking up to Diedrich, she grabs his hand and starts gently nudging him towards the school. "Come on, we're not leaving you here to drown yourself," She turns to Adrian and silently mouths _What happened?_

 _He's realised his life is worthless,_ Adrian giggles to himself. Grell scowls and slaps his arm.

"That isn't nice!" she huffs and crosses her arms. "And anyhow, aren't you supposed to be teaching the children how to bake cookies, or something?"

"Ugh," Adrian slaps his forehead. "I forgot about that," After shrugging his bag back on his shoulders, Adrian sprints up the hill and around the school towards the main doors, resigned to accept the 'Late' checkmark on is digital student record.

Grell hears Diedrich sniffle and she turns to him, putting her hands on her hips. "So, what was so shocking that it made you show some emotion for once?"

"I'm such a horrible friend... it's hopeless," he whimpers, burying his face in his hands and sobbing into them. "Oh no, Vincent must hate me,"

The girl scowls and pulls his hands away, making him look up at her pitifully. "Listen to me, nothing is hopeless! I know that better than most, I never thought I'd find a girlfriend! But I did, and you can fix things with Vincent. Whatever you did can't be so awful," 

He looks at her sceptically. "What about being so thoughtless that you treat your friend like he's only there to make _you_ happy, and you don't think about his needs at all?"

Grell blinks a few times and hides a snicker. "You know, I'm sure Vincent will understand if you talk to him,"

"R-Really?" he sniffles.

Grell hums in agreement. "I'll walk you to business, just making sure you don't kill yourself between here and the classroom,"

After giving the business teacher an excuse as to why Diedrich was late, she winks at the confused Vincent and whisks down to gym. The shambling boy takes his seat beside the suspicious Vincent.

"What happened?" He asks, looking past Diedrich's torn shirt and his bloodshot eyes which continue to leak tears.

The taller forces himself not to cry out and hug Vincent right now. "I'm such a bad friend," He whispers instead, staring into nothing.

Vincent shifts in his seat, concerned. "What are you talking about?"

Diedrich escapes the abyss and looks at Vincent instead, speaking perhaps the most honest words he ever has. "I thought it was my obligation to keep you safe, to protect you not from others, but yourself. I've been resisting who you are because I'm scared that I'll lose you... if I let myself act like your friend. I don't want to die alone, but is that a worse fate that losing you completely?"

The shorter boy shakes his head slowly as he listens. "I don't know what brought this on and I don't want to. Get out of your head. If you've realised something about yourself you don't like, you can change that part. Aren't you happy that you finally figured yourself out?"

"Figured myself out...?" Diedrich anxiously nibbles on his knuckle. "Must I resign, then, from loving you?"

Vincent locks eyes with the tall boy as he searches his body language, finding a sincere and complete shift in Diedrich's countenance. "It isn't that you must stop loving me, but that you _should_. Because continuing to love me will bring you nothing but heartbreak,"

"You're wrong,"

Diedrich looks away to escape the shock and offence in Vincent's eyes. Not once, not ever, has Diedrich told Vincent he was wrong. He continues, trying to explain himself. "I don't care about getting my heart broken, I can't stop myself from loving you. And I can deal with you not loving me back,"

That afternoon, arriving the cafeteria, Vincent stands over Adrian imperiously, making the latter shrink back in his seat, feeling intimidated.

"You broke him," Vincent states, venom and fury in his voice.

"Tch," Adrian looks away, ashamed. "I was angry. He was so arrogant, I wanted to know what his problem was,"

"Well, you broke my toy and now you," he slides his hand under Adrian's chin and lifts his head up. "- have to fix him,"

"So, Vincent pulls back and gives Adrian a lazy, satisfied grin. "I'm signing you up to be a prefect, just like Diedrich,"

*

As with most British schools, the students here are split into Houses which dictate which form classes you are in, what colour your badge is and your timetable. Selected sixth-form students act as prefects for their House. Prefects have very little role and the title is meaningless other than the status it provide, as well as being messengers from the staff to the students. Diedrich and Vincent are, harmoniously, in the Green Lion House, of which Diedrich is a prefect. Adrian and Grell are in the Sapphire Owl House, known school-wide as the House for rebellious students.

Currently, Sapphire Owl has no prefect, simply because nobody applied to be one and the students picked by the faculty acted so incompetently that they were relieved of that position within a week.

After going to the staff and appealing to their sense of desperation of not having a prefect, Vincent Phantomhive convinced them to give Adrian the position.

"What's your angle?" Adrian groans and he adjusts his new prefect badge on the school blazer he never wears. "I don't wanna be a prefect!"

Vincent smirks and pokes Adrian's forehead, right between the curtains of hair. "Deduce it,"

The tall boy sighs and slouches, just to Vincent's height. Feeling submissive, it seems like a more comfortable position for now. He looks into Vincent's eyes and tries to think. "To punish me, and it's advantageous because this will look good for my trial?"

Vincent hums and nods slightly. "You're seventy percent correct, but it's the final thirty percent that counts,"

Adrian scowls and searches not for the most logical motive, but for the most _Vincent_ motive. "It's control," he decides finally. "If you control the prefect, you can control everyone in Sapphire Owl, right? So you essentially have one sixth of the school under your thumb. Not that you don't have _everyone_ under your thumb, but controlling the prefect makes it easier to be overt,"

"Bingo," Vincent snaps his fingers. "You're the perfect control mechanism. I already control Green Lion though Dee, but your House seems much more interesting,"

*

"Listen up, fuckers!"

Adrian barges into the Sapphire Owl common room along with Vincent. The common room is for sixth-form students only. Adrian, who's been almost a ghost since he arrived here, is in tears of anxiety facing up to peers his own age, whom he doesn't know, acting like an authority figure.

Nevertheless, he's learning to act the part for Vincent. To give Vincent what he wants.

He clears his throat. "I'm a prefect now, so... so if anyone fucks up, it's not just you in trouble, it's also me. So we-we're going to change some shit, starting with," he looks around. "Starting with cleaning up this bloody trash bin of a common room,"

A collective silence reigns until Grell, who's somewhat more popular than Adrian is, sighs and starts cleaning up her area. Slowly, others begin to join. Feeling satisfied with himself, Adrian turns to Vincent.

"The teachers have been trying to get us to do this since the year started," Adrian giggles to Vincent. "Oh, it's fun having power! Is this how you feel all the time?"

"I feel so much better than this," Vincent chuckles. "Because put simply, your power is superficial. All you have are the responsibilities,"

"Hm?" Adrian pouts. "What responsibilities?"

"You know," Vincent snickers, turning on his head and walking away. "Speaking at House assemblies, assistant classroom teaching, representing your House at prefect meetings..."

"Eh??? You never said anything about that!" Adrian whines down the corridor after his boyfriend.

Barely turning, just enough for Adrian to see his smug victory, Vincent answers. "I did say this was a punishment,"

Adrian crosses his arms, pouting like a toddler. "Fuck,"

*

Adrian is walking to biology when he's stopped by a senior member of staff. Deputy Headmaster Ash Landers whisks him to the side. "Adrian Spears, isn't it?" He asks in a smooth voice.

"You know my name already," he shrugs. "What is it?"

Ash places his hand on his heart, seemingly offended. But he recovers quickly. "I'm simply here to congratulate you on your new title as a prefect. It seems like you've really turned things around since your last school,"

"Right," The boy waits for him to get to a point.

"You haven't been getting bullied, have you," Ash frowns a little. Prefects tend to be the victims of cruel jokes and being an openly gay prefect...

The tall boy speaks a bit more urgently. "If that's all, I 'ave to get to biology," He moves to push past Ash when an arm shoots out in front of him. He barely has time to halt before crashing into it.

"Ah, no - your brother is waiting outside to pick you up.#," Ash smiles and lowers his arm. "I've informed your teacher,"

"My...?" He frowns. "I don't have a-"

Adrian's face changes. First, it fills with realisation, then horror. Until it settles to a calm, yet cautious acceptance. "Thanks, I'll just sign out,"

Adrian signs his name at the office and walls towards the bright withe limousine sitting at the end of the car park. While there are security cameras in the car park, Adrian guesses most of them can't see inside the limo.

He slips through the open back door and is greeted by Aleister sitting on the opposite padded seat. Sitting down, he waits for Aleister to speak. "You seem surprised to see me,"

"You don't have any evidence because there isn't any, I assumed you'd given up," Adrian swallows while he rests his hands in his pockets, dialling his emergency call number that connects directly to Vincent. Aleister's eyes widen at his confidence. "But... what I can't figure out, is exactly what you want from me. Blackmail for my inheritance, maybe? Revenge for bloody... what's his name - Cedric?"

Aleister delicately crosses his legs over in the seat. "It's true, that Cedric Phantomhive hired me as his defence lawyer,"

"But you aren't one," Adrian looks around the limousine. "This ain't the car of a defence lawyer, this is the car of..."

He blinks, his body shuddering horribly in reaction to his mind's connection.

The older man's eyes slant and a smirk spreads across his face, almost instinctively. "Do you remember me now?"

"You, you aren't memorable enough to remember as a person, but I drew a logical conclusion" Adrian reflects his smirk. "If you wanted revenge for that fire, why did you wait so long to confront me?"

Aleister shakes his head. "Unimportant,"

"I agree, it doesn't matter - because you don't have any evidence to blackmail me with," Adrian looks around, biting his tongue to prevent incriminating himself. He doesn't think Aleister would have a bug planted to record his voice, but if his goal really is to gather evidence against Adrian, he doesn't want to make it that easy.

Well, since you don't remember me, I might as well tell you who I am," Aleister begins, sounding disappointed. "Ten years ago-" 

"Ugh," Adrian leans against the door as the car begins to drive. He can't see out the tinted window, so he memorises the directions the car turns in. This is going to be boring as shit.

More irritated, Aleister continues his monologue. "Ten years ago, I was a doctor for the underground elite. I was negotiating with your father as an investor in the funeral parlour and its underground activities. I'm in the human trafficking business, and your father provided me the details of mourning family members in exchange for a commission if I deemed them worth selling. But I was always interested in one particular emerald," 

"Me," Adrian confirms, thinking that must reference his eyes. Aleister nods.

"You. Your unique eyes and hair colour made you a perfect collectible for the elite. Silly me, talking in past tense - you _are_ the perfect collectible. Granted, you won't be so exclusive now that you're older, that fire disrupted my plans for you,"

"Why didn't you just adopt me when I was seven and sell me then?" Adrian wonders aloud.

"That's such a stupid question," Aleister chides him. Of course it is - to adopt him meant background checks, constant surveillance from social workers, a paper trail. 

Adrian speaks quietly. "Unfortunately, a member of the elite already owns me, and won't take kindly to you stealing from him,"

Aleister's hands flutter in the air, like the wings of a butterfly. "The Phantomhive boy will never find you, in fact he'll be worth a lot as a collectible as well..." Aleister considers, and Adrian narrows his eyes. "Thankfully, the buyer I had in mind for you al those years ago is still interested. He's a tradesman from China who specialises in rare, exclusive items. If it's abnormal, one of a kind, he must have it,"

Adrian closes his eyes. "Like I said," he opens them once again, and they seem to shimmer. "I'll have to decline,"

A sudden scream of the tyres and the car spins, throwing Aleister against the opposite door. Adrian crashes against him, a knife pressing against his side.

Aleister's eyes widen, fading to murky waters of confusion. _What just happened?_


	17. Challenge

Aleister watches in slow motion, the knife stick into his side. Adrian pulls his hand away, leaving it protruding from the wound. "If you're a doctor, you'll know that ain't fatal,"

"Wh-What did you do...?" Shuddering, terrified eyes look up at the teenager.

Adrian's eyes continue to flash that strange light, he stands over Aleister looking like the grim reaper himself. "Your mistake was letting me get in the car by myself, not having someone let me in. But even before that, your initial mistake was not researching me thoroughly enough to know that I'm a chemistry student, and to know that this-"

He pulls an empty bottle of soda from is pocket. "- doesn't boost a car's endurance when it's poured into the fuel tank,"

He smirks and with a final warning, a warning that manifests as nothing more than a subtle shift in his smirk, he clambers out the side window of the car. Adrian's feet land on the pavement of the empty street, which he surveys for cameras or witnesses. Satisfied there aren't any, he sneaks up a side-street shrouded in overhanging trees. He needs to get as far away from the car crash as possible, and his expertise of this town leads him down winding paths onto the main street, where he blends in with the shoppers.

"Fuck," he realises his uniform, especially his blazer and prefect badge, is highly recognisable. He pulls that off along with his tie and button-up shirt, exposing his bright pink t-shirt underneath. Pulling a hoodie from is backpack, he hides his bright hair under its hood.

"Well," he sighs in relief once he stops in a café to be off the street. "Now this means I have the afternoon off,"

After a grace period of half an hour passes, with nothing to do Adrian walks not home, but to Diedrich's house. He intends to sit on the step and wait for the taller to return, but Diedrich's mother opens the door.

"Oh! Adrian, isn't it?" she asks with wide, surprised eyes. "Diedrich is at school..."

He knows she says that while wondering why Adrian isn't at school too. He nods, ready to turn around and leave, when Diedrich's mother invites him inside.

"Really?"

"Yes, of course," she smiles down at him. She's taller than Adrian when he's slouched like this, but when he stands at full height, she's just shorter.

"Well, see, the thing is..." he sighs, kicking his feet against the front step which leaves the imprints of his rubber soles. "I'm here to say sorry to Diedrich..."

She turns pale, blinking and staring straight at the ground. Assuming they had a fight and some nasty words were exchanged, should she invite him in? Would Diedrich want to see him?

Eventually, she relents to Adrian's original plan of him sitting on the step in wait for Diedrich. Unfortunately. when Diedrich arrives home, he's accompanied by Vincent. Both stop short of the gate when they notice he's there. After a brief exchange of surprise and awkwardness, they enter.

"You weren't in science," Vincent states plainly.

"I know, we have some things to talk about," Adrian tells him.

"Why are you wearing different clothes?" Vincent gives him a frown is distaste. "And why are you here of all places?"

"Diedrich, I'm sorry I was a bastard this morning," Adrian blurts out his apology in the knowledge that if he doesn't say it now, he never will. "That's - That's all I came to say,"

He pushes past them and down the path, waiting at the gate for Vincent. "Come on, finish your sappy friendship hug and le's go!"

Adrian waits by the tree, looking more angry than he is and smoking a cigarette out of stress. Vincent runs down after seeing Diedrich off and they walk home together, side-by-side.

"Why are you bleeding, hm?" Vincent turns to him and smiles. Cured of his initial surprise, Vincent returns to a curious and amused state.

Adrian reaches up and smears the blood off his forehead, which only serves to mat the sticky substance into his hair. _Fuck,_ he hadn't realised he hit his head. "Aleister Chambers paid me a visit at school, you see," he smirks.

Vincent blinks away his worry, but Adrian notices. He's quick to assure his boyfriend.

"Never mind, I don't think we'll be getting bothered by him again, perhaps he got cold feet - or a cold side form all that blood loss," he clicks his nail against his teeth, chuckling at the sinister joke.

If that was to calm Vincent down, it achieves the opposite. "You're sure I don't have to worry?"

"Come now," his hair falls in front of his eyes once again, concealing their secrets. "Don't you trust me, dear?"

"I trust my ability to know when you're lying," Vincent answers, faux-stroppy and takes Adrian's hand in his own. No matter how often he sees them, the sleek black nails with their fresh coat of paint never fails to send shivers of excitement down his spine.

*

Grell was always told never to draw attention to herself. But with her bright red hair, what else could she do but lean in to that aesthetic? She has been content - lonely, but content - in acceptance that no man or woman would understand her affinity (obsession, let's be real) for the colour.

But Madame Red might be the one person in the world who like the colour more than Grell does. She even named herself after it!

"Well, mind telling us what we're doing in the middle of deserted-fuck nowhere?" Adrian asks Grell, crossing his arms and leaning against the railing.

"Patience, darling," Grell tuts. "Did you have anything better to do on a Wednesday evening?"

"Studying for their A-Levels," Diedrich answers sardonically, although he too wonders why Grell invited everyone to the marina. The orange sun shimmers off the water as it sets, illuminating Vincent's hair in a deep, vibrant contrast. He's beautiful.

Grell jerks her thumb at Red. "Vincent suggested that she give Adrian a once-over after today's incident, to ensure he didn't have any serious injuries,"

"Indeed, I'm studying to be a doctor!" Red agrees.

The silver-haired teenager gives her a sceptical glance but sits on a bench, allowing her to work him over.

"The crash has given you some nasty bruising, and your head..." she places gauze on the deep gash on his forehead, which he hides under his hair. "It's bad - it might scar," she warns him.

"Eh, what's one more of those?" Adrian chuckles.

"What are we going to do about Chambers?" Vincent chews the inside of his lip. "He won't have given up on you that easily. And with his position, I wouldn't trust him not to interfere in your trial," 

"My trial is for bullshit, petty offences that'll get me a fine, I might not even get a criminal record depending on the evidence," Adrian shrugs it off with hubris, but can't deny the drifting embers of doubt fluttering around the emptiness of his mind.

"They were confident enough in their evidence to charge you," Vincent reminds him.

"That was reactionary, it had to be done to take down your father," he shakes his head. "But his influence is now gone, Scotland Yard ain't got no reason to convict me now,"

He looked into the his boyfriend's eyes as his own blur in and our of consciousness. The concussion he's keeping secret is making his woozy, and Red's coat feels so soft, he could just fall asleep on it...

No, he can't fall asleep! Not only are people with concussions not meant to fall asleep, but it'll alert Vincent that something is wrong beyond just a cut! 

Unfortunately for Adrian, his strange behaviour today has already done that. Vincent observes him with the same air of scepticism as if he was a juror convinced of guilt, but forced to by his fellow jurors to agree with a verdict of innocence.

When they arrive home, his suspicions that Adrian is acting odd are confirmed. William, who has had years of scrupulously observing Adrian's behaviour, notices immediately.

"You're shaking, you should sit down and have some water immediately," He commands Adrian sternly, leading him to the table and sitting him down. "What drugs have you taken?" he asks, pouring is adopted son a glass of water and giving it to him.

"None," Adrian groans, the layers of the world splitting and revolving in a way that makes him nauseous.

William looks at Vincent with the same question. The blue haired boy nods.

"He hasn't taken anything, I'm positive,"

Even if Vincent was lying, William wouldn't have been able to tell. Vincent is too much the expert of his own body, even involuntary mircoexpressions, to give anything away.

"I believe you," William nods. "In that case, you have a fever. You should go to bed, and you can stay home from school tomorrow,"

"Yeeeeeey, how bloody exciting," Adrian feels barely refreshing after his water, and no less groggy.

Adrian lies in bed, Vincent sleeping soundly beside him. The screen of his phone makes his eyes water and his head throb as he Googles how to recover from the mild concussion he likely has. The obvious advice is 'Go to the emergency room' but they'd have questions. and he's too exhausted, feels too sick to come up with a convincing story. Otherwise, advice of rest and avoiding alcohol feels so diluted that it isn't worth considering.

He looks down at Vincent's sleeping form, wrapping his arms around him, just to be touched and to touch Vincent. Sensual attraction, or as Adrian calls it, 'horny for cuddling' invokes a sentimental desire to be one with, and be loved by Vincent.

He clings to Vincent and silently, in the false protection that Vincent is sleeping, cries away the pain of his headache.

Vincent, however, is not asleep. Instead, he lies awake, worried, listening to Adrian click back and forth between his phone's home screen and browser. And he feels hot tears on his shoulder, Adrian's arms wrap around him. It would make him even more concerned if it wasn't so damn cute.

Vincent turns over, still pretending to be asleep, allowing Adrian to lie on his warm chest instead. Hair gets in his mouth, but that's okay. Adrian curls up like a baby koala, burying his face in Vincent's shoulders. Eventually, the body on top of Vincent grown less stiff, and he knows Adrian has drifted off to sleep.

But Vincent stays awake, watching and listening. Making sure Adrian Is okay is integral, even his body knows so, as it buzzes with nervous energy, refusing to allow Vincent to sleep even if he tried to.

*

Adrian hisses at the stinging pain of his wounds after yesterday. Changing the gauze on his head is easy aside from the pain, but treating the wounds on his shoulders proves more difficult. Eventually, he's left with lopsided, patches of gauze hanging askew at random angles, at least covering most of the open cuts.

He jogs downstairs in slippers and a pink nightgown to have breakfast with Vincent. William left early this morning, having planned a school trip to Dorset for fossil-hunting with his class.

"Say, I've been thinking...." Vincent eyes his boyfriend up and down, _suspiciously._ "Did you somehow plan all this just to get out of your prefect duties?"

Adrian gasps, mock-offended. "How dare you even suggest such a thing!" He drops his spoon into his golden cereal. "But no, this was just a coincidence - an' a bloody fun one at that!"

Vincent shakes his head at Adrian in disapproval, but he's really just jealous that he can't stay home with Adrian. He's grown more than fond, but to what extent he doesn't know. Love is a tentative definition, not something he knows enough about to attribute to himself. Does the way he feels for Adrian fit the textbook definition of love? Well, yes. 'An intense feeling of deep affection' is an accurate description of how he regards the silver-haired beauty. But love, it's more than intense. Love is meaningful, and while their relationship has meaning, Vincent remains unsure of himself.

He frowns and stares into his cereal. He isn't used to being unsure.

"Oi! Earth to Lord Phantomhive!" Vincent snaps out of it as Adrian snaps his fingers in front pf his face. "You're going to be late, and while I'd love for you to stay here all day, I do have things to do,"

"What things?" Vincent finishes quickly and rinses his bowl in the sink.

"William hired a lawyer to come down in the afternoon and go over my defences for my trial," he shrugs. "Maybe I should've pled guilty after all, it'd only have been a fine..."

"No Adrian, remember what I told you when you got charged?"

He does, as well as the disappointment on his boyfriend's face. Vincent had told him to fight this at all costs because a criminal record could destroy their future together. He needs a not-guilty verdict.

Vincent leaves and for the remainder of the morning, Adrian watches _House MD_. At twelve in the afternoon on the dot, there's an ominous, echoing knock at the door. Adrian quirks an eyebrow and answers, a small part of him dreading opening the door to Aleister Chambers, who'd somehow convinced William to let him be the defence lawyer.

But it isn't Aleister Chambers. The man at the door is much more attractive and interesting - Adrian's type. Briefly, he wonders of William chose this guy on purpose, knowing Adrian would swoon and comply with his orders.

The man picks up his briefcase and rudely, moves Adrian aside and enters the house. "Uh, you're the lawyer?"

Adrian locks the door and follows him inside, awkwardly hanging at the doorway while the lawyer looks around the living room, theatrically. Until now, the teenager hadn't thought it was possible to theatrically look around a living room, but he is proven wrong. 

"Did it take you this long to figure that out?" the lawyer holds up his briefcase. "Fetch me some tea. Sweet as you can,"

Without the will to disobey this man, Adrian makes them both tea with enough sugar to send a horse into a diabetic coma, and sits at the table opposite him. The lawyer spreads his papers across the table in seemingly random order. A few seconds of silence pass until the lawyer remembers something.

Ah, yes, my name is Barrister Blavat Sky," he introduces himself. Sliding out a list of charges, he pours over them. "And you're Adrian Spears,"

Adrian can only gulp and nod. If he didn't have a different name, Adrian would assume he's Vincent's long-lost relative. Fucking two Phantomhives for the price of one is an alluring offer...

"Trespassing, you can plead guilty on that without getting a criminal record," he explains. "Charges of Breaking and Entering and Perverting the Course of Justice are more tricky. The reason you did both of these is what matters, and is how we'll form our defence,"

"I did it because-"

Adrian shuts his mouth when Blavat raises his hand. "No, sweetie. Let me guess," 

Sweetie? Adrian blinks in surprise. "How can you guess?"

"I'm psychic," a crooked grin spreads on is face and he leans back smugly. "You did it because you don't trust the police, given their record of failing to sentence domestic violence, and you had to conceal evidence until you had built up enough to make your case irrefutable," He lifts his chin, looking down his nose at Adrian and evidently expecting him to be impressed.

"That's right," Adrian grins, before sliding one of the papers out from underneath Balvat's crossed arms. "And that's exactly what this file said I told the police,"

His type might be might be men who claim to have insights into the human mind, but the moment those men reveal their frauds, he regains the upper hand. "Now instead of trying to seduce me with Barnum statements you BTECH Vincent Phantomhive **(yes, you'll only get the joke if you're English)** why don't you get me off these charges?"

Caught off-guard, the lawyer fumbles with his satchel and procures a notepad. After Adrian explains the situation in full, he nods.

"We're going to aim for a Necessity Defence - that you _had to_ conceal the evidence out of necessity for Vincent's safety, are you in agreement?"

"Hm," Adrian muses, dragging out the moment to make Blavat squirm. "Alright then. And the breaking and entering?"

"The same defence," Blavat clarifies while gathering up his papers.

"I have to ask-" he begins in a voice just as flustered as when Adrian first called him out, a pout gracing his still-attractive features. "You seem the type to value fun. Yet you were so cruel as to ruin my act! Why couldn't you play along, just for fun?"

"Simply put-" Adrian chuckles, parting his hair to look intensely into Blavat's nervous eyes."You aren't fun at all if you can't take a challenge. And you, my dear, cannot take a challenge,"


	18. Dracula

The next day, Adrian returns to school alongside Vincent. Whispers and side-glances reverberate around the main hall, everyone having heard about Adrian's upcoming trial. A gruelling task befalls him today as a prefect - addressing the Year 7 and Year 8 students in assembly. This would be torturous enough if it was a normal assembly, but he's being forced to stand in front of a bunch of eleven and twelve year olds to, in his teacher's words, "give them a talking to," about the litter by the riverbank. That is not only torturous, but _boring and_ torturous.

That'll label Adrian as even more a social pariah. Sitting in the common room, he taps his pen on the page he's using to write the script of his speech. "Diedrich, you're a prefect - what do you say for these kinds of things?"

Crossing his slender legs, Diedrich sneers across the table at him in disdain. "Thankfully, I haven't had to talk to my House about litter. Green Lion understands how to respect our town,"

"Oh bleh bleh bleh!" Adrian makes Dracula faces to annoy Diedrich and it works, the taller boy huffs and scowls at the floor like a child.

Adrian turns to Vincent for help. "Well? You're the one 'in control' here, what should I say?"

Vincent takes the paper into his hands and softly lays the pen on the first line. "While I'd love to watch you squirm some more trying to write, this isn't productive. Your script should reflect your House, so no garble about respect or dignity or the school's reputation - the kids won't respond to that. We'll take the angle of avoiding trouble for petty things. Make them understand how foolish it is to be banned from using the riverbank path just because they litter,"

Vincent begins to write. A sudden shooting pain, like a drill through his skull, buries itself in Adrian's brain. On instinct, he hisses and grips his hair.

"Are you alright?" Diedrich gasps, startled.

"Mmm head hurts..." Adrian rubs his temples.

Vincent bites his lip but focuses on the speech, something that comes easy to him. He'd be the perfect ghost writer for politicians' speeches: an expert of the human psyche and manipulation. He would control the voting populous not with propaganda, but with clever wordplay and the subtlest of psychological dismantlement. His talent is wasted on the children of Sapphire Owl. 

He's barely finished the speech when the bell rings and he hands the paper to his boyfriend with a wink. "Good luck,"

Adrian rolls his eyes as they trot off to business and he downstairs to the assembly hall. Hanging by the table with the teachers, they watch the youngest of the school filter in and take up the seats. Seeing two yeargroups sitting together makes Adrian appreciate how truly large the assembly hall is, even if it doesn't look that way.

The headmaster introduces him and, with a dull ache over his entire body, Adrian takes to the podium. "Ahem," he clears his throat and begins to recite Vincent's speech.

**_Hello, my name is Adrian Spears and as some of you may know, I'm the new prefect for Sapphire Owl. It has come to my attention that-_ **

Adrian frowns as the next line contains a stage direction: **_(babble on about litter until someone disrupts you)_**

"Uh... that a member of the public has reported a lot of litter on the canal path, being dropped by students wearing the Sapphire Owl colours..." he continues to the unimpressed students.

Vincent predicted well, as it isn't long before one of the students calls out. "Oi! Scarface!!"

Adrian pauses his ramblings and looks up.

"Goin' on about bloody litter? Fuckin' scarface criminal!"

Everyone laughs, either out of agreement or f nervous shock. Adrian does look kind of scary, of course. Adrian checks the next stage direction.

**_(get smug, fake a dark personality)_ **

Adrian smirks, a crooked smirk that spreads across his face. _Thank you love, you know how to play to my strengths._

He bends over the podium and suddenly erupts into a villainous witch's cackle. It's a very specific, terrifying laugh that few people can master - Adrian and Vincent being two of them. Vincent's laugh is soft and insidious, that creeps into your mind and paralyses you. Adrian's, on the contrary, has the power of some hideous, inhuman creature that terrifies because of its raw hideousness. 

The children freeze, petrified by the stark shift of power. From a child's hubris, the power is seized by someone much older, and more dangerous. "Like you said, I'm a criminal," Adrian laughs again, quieter, deeper, darker. "And if any of you fuck up my trial by getting me removed from my prefect position, I will hunt you down and you'll find out how dangerous I can be,"

He open his mouth slightly, sticking his tongue out. "So stop littering. Because it'll fuck things up for me as your prefect, and that will lead to very harsh consequences for you,"

Drunk on superficial power, Adrian continues his villainous monologue. "I am the Master of the House now, my power is absolute. Don't fuck with me, and don't fuck with my status," 

He is happy, it takes only a few seconds to calm down. His job is done, but in those moments he felt so alive. Moments of extreme pressure lead him to appreciate moments of serenity. He walks calmly out the assembly hall but the moment he's invisible to the children within, sprints to the bathroom. He pounding in his head has gotten so bad, the pain so intense, that all he can do is lock the cubicle door, throw up and faint from nausea and pain.

*

He wakes up to the glaring bathroom lights, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. Pangs of nausea return, but they're dull enough that he can stand. He realises what woke him up - a knock on the door.

"Y-Yeah?" he asks.

"It's me," _Diedrich?_

He opens the door and leans against its frame. "Do you just have a fetish for talking to me in the bathroom, or something? Why can't you text me when you want to talk to me?"

"You don't text about serious matters!" Diedrich frowns.

"Oh, like you texted Vincent serious topics for years because you knew he was being abused, which you did nothing about?" he raises his eyebrows, entirely aware of how much an asshole he sounds like. Well, how much an asshole _he is_.

The teenager frowns in thought as he stares at the disgusting bathroom floor for a few moments. "I wanted to ask you something important,"

"Important, or important to you?"

"I want to ask you why you like Vincent," almost as if aware of how stupid the question is, Diedrich clarifies. "What you like about him as a person, aside from the obvious,"

Adrian thinks for a moment, wondering how to word his thoughts. "Vincent is perfect. He doesn't have any flaws, not one. He remembers things about me that show he cares, he shows that what's important to me is important to him too. He keeps surprising me with how much he can put up with me," Adrian laughs at that. "He's also great in the bedroom, fucking amazing."

The taller boy feels Adrian getting annoyed and backs off. "It sounds like..." He looks down at his polished shoes. "It sounds like you're in love with him,"

Adrian stands up, suddenly stiff. The word 'love' confuses him for a moment, before he nods slowly. "You're right, I'm in love,"

The bathroom fills with students, making Adrian frown. "What the fuck time is it?"

"Lunchtime," 

"Lunchtime?" _I've been out for that long?_

"Come on, Grell wants to see you," Diedrich grabs Adrian's hand and yanks him to the cafeteria. Adrian smiles, pleasantly surprised by Diedrich's confidence. He still thinks the boy insufferable, but admires that he can finally show a backbone on something. 

"What did you want?" Adrian sighs, flopping into a chair once they reach the cafeteria. He draws his head back, closing his eyes to reduce the pounding in his head.

"I heard what you did in assembly, you risky boy," Grell smirks, rolling her Rs. "Well, it's worked. The whole school is utterly frightened of you! Do you know what they're calling you?" 

"All credit goes to Vincent for that speech," Adrian grins and holds Vincent's hand. "But go on, what're they calling me?"

"The House Master!"

Adrian wrinkles his nose. "Nah, don't like it- it makes me sound like Dracula. A name such as that is more fitting for Vincent," he turns to his boyfriend and grins cheekily. "My House Master," 

Vincent leans forward to kiss him and bites his lip. He doesn't dare complain about that, how horrible it would be if Vincent never does it again.

But the cafeteria fills with students of all year groups, Adrian glances around at the staring students and hears the whispers surrounding him once again.

"Hey look, that's Scarface,"

"Oh wow, didn't have have a mental breakdown in assembly?"

"He's a fucking junkie! Was probably high,"

The silver-haired teenager curls up on his seat, pulling his knees up and hugging them to his chest. Vincent sees and places his hand atop Adrian's. Grell also sees.

She climbs onto the table and whistles, drawing the attention of every student and teacher. Smiling her shark-toothed grin, she addresses the crowd with deceptive sweetness. "Listen up, lovelies! If any of you have anything to say about Adrian - that's the Sapphire Owl prefect, by the way - you can say it to me!" 

The younger, arrogant students look at their shoes in silence. Adrian blushes, mouthing a 'thank you' to Grell until he feels Vincent grab his hand and drag him off.

The silver-haired boy raises an eyebrow "Where are we going?"

"Right here," Vincent pulls him into the empty commonroom.

Before Adrian can ask why, Vincent pushes him pins him against the wall, trapping Adrian between his arms. The taller blushes more furiously, hiding behind his hair. Vincent moves strands of hair away from his mouth, landing tender but passionate kisses against his lips.

"Sh-Should we really be...?" Adrian whimpers when Vincent slams him onto the shared commonroom tables, now clean. He feels hands roam across his body, his shirt being ripped open from the top button.

A tongue on his neck makes him shiver, that tickling sensation exploring the nerves that react under his skin. The tiniest moan escapes him, his eyes close in gradually increasing ecstasy.

"Keep them open,"

Snapping his eyes open, Adrian looks into Vincent's whole the shorter strips to his underwear, pinning him to the table now as he explored Adrian's body with his hands. Finally, he hits a spot that makes Adrian buck his hips, necessary to cover his mouth with his hand and stifle a moan.

Vincent continues his ministrations for several minutes, reducing Adrian from a sentient being to a nebulous void incapable of thought. All that remains is his instinctive functions, and his instinct is to obey Vincent.

"Do you want relief, darling?" Vincent smiles kindly.

A whimper of agreement can be heard in the empty room.

"Then you have to obey my every commandment," Vincent pulls away form his neck, staring into his eyes. His hand finds a particular spot that makes Adrian squeal without being able to suppress it. Vincent tests his control. "Adrian, tell me, in full truth, whether you love me or not,"

"I love you,"

Vincent smirks, Adrian would never say that aloud when ordered. "Tell me, in full truth, what has ben wrong with you since the day Aleister took you,"

"Headaches," Adrian swallows the painful lump in his throat.

"Why do you have headaches?"

"Concussion,"

Having achieved his objective, Vincent removes his hand.

"H-Huh?!" Adrian whimpers out his plea when Vincent gets off of him.

"You don't deserve any more," Vincent fixes his own uniform. "You've been keeping your concussion a secret from me,"

"This is... so cruel..." Adrian blinks away tears of sexual frustration.

Vincent return before his face and slowly does up his buttons. "There's the bell, you'd better get ready for class,"

He gulps again, voice quivering. "Yes, Master,"


	19. Enigmatic

Adrian lets his head fall on the table. His headaches have been gradually lessening, but the glaring lights create a burning depth behind his eyes. "Can you turn the brightness down?"

"Of my office lights?" Blavat stares at the ceiling with wide-open eyes. He appears not to notice the tears those lights bring in his own eyes, let alone Adrian's. "No, I asked for these lights because I wanted it to be this bright,"

He seems to drift off into his mind, only brought back to the current world when Adrian falls asleep against the table.

The purple-haired lawyer's eyes widen and he shouts "Wakie wakie!"

Adrian does, and they begin working on his defence. A guilty plea for the trespassing and an innocent plea for the harsher offences - on the defence that hiding evidence was necessary until enough was gathered to ensure Mr Phantomhive's conviction.

Blavat's face lights up, highly amused by this case. "You had an elaborate little scheme here - I admire your skills,"

"What sentence will I get?" Adrian asks, too tired to play games with the lawyer he doesn't respect - not after Blavat embarrassed himself by pretending to be psychic.

"Assuming all goes to plan, perhaps a fine for trespassing. If we can get you a Youth Referral Order that'll be great, since it's a first offence... but you're over sixteen, that complicates things,"

"I'm not doing fucking community service!" Adrian squeals, suddenly concerned. Unlike William or Vincent, he cares little if he gets a criminal record and has to pay a fine. But unpaid community service under a Youth Referral Order? That sounds like torture.

"Apologies, I meant to say that was the worst case scenario," Blavat gives him a smug grin, not sounding sorry at all. "Very likely, you'll be acquitted given the circumstances. Mr Phantomhive isn't there to bring a civil charge against you and the courts don't want to waste time on trespassing ,"

Adrian looks out the window as he listens carefully, biting his lip a little. "Does that mean we're done here?"

"Indeed - however!" he pauses when Adrian starts to leave. "I'm sorry I acted like a prick on our first meeting, I'm not used to people being able to see through my disguises,"

Adrian raises his eyebrow, because surely there is a point to this.

"So if you'd let me, I'd like a chance to prove I'm worth your time,"

"Why should I? You already disappointed me," he turns back and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Why should you? Because you're interested, of course!" Blavat laughs. "You wouldn't have turned around otherwise,"

 _Damn, he got me._ "Okay, what do you have in mind?"

"Tomorrow at the bridge - at the transition from afternoon to evening,"

Adrian rolls his eyes. "Just say six o'clock - I like solving people, not riddles,"

*

At six o'clock the next day, Blavat and Adrian meet in the centre of the bridge. Even though Adrian is more than sceptical of Blavat's abilities, the lawyer is too superficially hot not to give him a second chance. Deep down inside, Adrian wants Blavat to be someone he can show off to Vincent. _"Hey look, I found someone interesting for you to play with!"._ Something to make Vincent proud of him.

"Thank you for coming, I wasn't sure you would," Blavat's voice is hopeful but not confident. It doesn't make Adrian very confident either.

"The fuck are we doing here? It's cold as shit," and it is, with winter gripping its chilling fingers around his throat. Adrian coughs slightly. He always has breathing issues during winter.

"Pick someone - any someone - walking under the bridge and I'll deduce them,"

"You will, will you?" Adrian grins. He looks for a suitable target, eyes settling on-

 _Grell?!_ "That girl, sitting on the wall," he points at her, she hasn't noticed them and is just sitting, watching the water move under the bridge. Enjoying the Victorian-woman-in-winter aesthetic her corset gives her. This is the perfect opportunity for Adrian - a chance to test Blavat's deductive reasoning without doing any work himself figuring out a stranger.

"Hm, difficult," Blavat admits. "Insecure, judging by the makeup and corset. The romantic type - heart decorations on her backpack and hairclips, along with wearing only red, the colour of love. But she looks like she has a hard time finding love, she has those eyes,"

Blavat takes a moment before delivering the fatal blow. "Was I right? You would know, since you know her,"

Taken-aback, Adrian gulps. He already believed Blavat when he listed off general traits for Grell, but that deduction is advanced-level. "How did you know?"

"I mean, not to be _offensive-"_ Blavat grins, slightly apologetically. "But only someone who knew her would have immediately assumed female pronouns. She could have been a gender-nonconforming boy, or non binary. You said 'she' without hesitation - so you knew her pronouns in advance,"

Adrian glares, irritated. _Picking someone I knew was a bad idea._ Sure, it saved him effort, but it also made him vulnerable to Blavat as well, purely by association. "I believe you're good, but I want to test you more more time. This is your chance to really _wow_ me,"

This time, Blavat picks the unsuspecting civilian and allows Adrian time to deduce them first. He perceives she's a graduate student with a STEM major, lesbian, enjoys hair and makeup, does friends' hair and makeup for small commissions, likely to fund her obsession with small chibi plushies. "Got it," Adrian nods.

"Her girlfriend's name is Mey-Rin, she's a physics graduate student who has a side-gig as a makeup artist or... no, _and_ hair stylist to buy plushies,"

Adrian narrows his eyes sceptically, unwilling to accept that not only is Blavat good, but better than him. "Explain how you got those specifics,"

"There's a name stitched on her bag - Nina," Blavat explains. "But the name on her necklace is Mey-Rin. A name stitched on a bag is more commitment than a necklace, therefore the stitching is likely her name and the necklace is another girl's. How do I know it's not a family member? The necklace type isn't gold or simple, it's over-the-top and flirty - the perfect Valentine's gift between partners,"

He smirks, enjoying Adrian's irritation. "As for the physics - chemistry students have calloused hands, physics students like machines more and her bag has a futuristic robotics style - I assume you just got 'scientist' from that-,"

Adrian glares and looks away, hiding his blush. "Alright, I get it asshole!"

Something else comes to mind. "If you can do all this, why pretend to be a psychic? You know nobody respects you for being a psychic except gullible idiots - people will just assume you're a mentalist anyway,"

"I pretend to be a psychic for one reason - to see the looks on sceptics' faces when I fool them so hard that they actually start believing," He chuckles and looks out on the water. "So, d'you respect me now?"

Only silence follows. "Adrian....?" Blavat turns to where Adrian was standing, finding that spot empty. He's alone on the bridge.

*

The blue-haired boy frowns at Adrian when he rips open their bedroom door. "How'd it go with the lawyer?"

At the last word, he snaps. He pins Vincent down on the bed and forces open his jeans. He whispers down Vincent's ear. "Just fine, better than fine,"

⚠️

Too turned on to elaborate, he reaches down to violently tug Vincent's member. The shorter boy winces in pain but Adrian's established a rhythm, allowing him to lie back and relax. However, Vincent's instincts take over and in a furious clash with Adrian's, he flips them both over so that Adrian is forced against the bed.

The taller growls and kisses Vincent, fighting a battle for dominance which Vincent inevitably wins.

Still struggling for dominance, he's forced against the bed and forced to submit to Vincent's ministrations. His legs are grabbed up and pulled apart and he feels a lubed finger against his entrance - when did Vincent put lube on? His insides burn slightly at the intrusion until he stops struggling and relaxes against the touch. From there, he experiences the frustrating pleasure when all he wants is to release this build-up of hormones Blavat forced down his throat with that sensual display of perception.

Finally, Vincent hits a spot that fuels his release and that release shoots over both of them. A few moments of lying there, panting and drifting into sleep, are broken when Vincent sits up.

⚠️

"Well..." he looks down at his clothes. "What made you _this_ frustrated?"

"Blavat Sky,"

"Your lawyer?" Vincent frowns.

"He's as good as you at reading people," Adrian smiles dreamily, before noticing a distinct difference when he compares Blavat and Vincent. "But you're better at fooling them,"

"Convincing, dear Adrian," Vincent gives hi a small, quick kiss. "I don't fool people, I convince them,"

They decide to shower together. While this would be assumed to be steamy or sensual, neither are inherently turned on by nakedness. If it didn't make either of them seem like an asshole, Adrian and Vincent would identify as sapiosexual - the exclusive attraction to intelligence or intelligent people. Showering together, when there's nothing interesting involved, is as removed form sexless as going on a walk. You know, if they were walking naked. 

Vincent stands under the shower, allowing the water to plaster his hair to his forehead. He likes a hot shower, Adrian likes a cold one, which leads to Adrian standing just outside the stream and letting himself get goosebumps from the cold. The intimacy isn't sexual, but loving.

"Your hair is so soft..." Vincent reaches up and runs his fingers through Adrian's hair, which falls like silk.

The taller sighs. "Yours is bristly," He reaches up and feels Vincent's very straight hair between his fingers. He spikes it up with the water. "See! It's hard like glass!"

It stays sticking up as Arian turns around, revealing his back to Vincent. His hair trails down below his butt and to his thighs, so only his shoulders are visible. "Wash my hair!"

"Of course," Vincent grabs the strawberry-scented shampoo and massages it into Adrian's scalp. "How long are you going to grow your hair?"

"Like Rapunzel," he chuckles. "It grows as long as it grows and it'll stop eventually,"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Vincent holds it up in both his arms. "It's grown what, four feet in as many years?"

"Hm,"

"Then I'll be climbing into your bedroom on it in a few years," Vincent snickers, but stops when Adrian remains silent.

The blue-haired boy waits for Adrian to explain his thoughts, he always does. eventually. Meanwhile, he rinses off the shampoo and lathers conditioner on the ends.

"You'll still be with me in a few years?" Adrian turns to look at him.

He takes the showerhead in his hand and rinses off the conditioner. "There's no reason I wouldn't be,"

"What about forever?"

Vincent sighs. "You know what I'm going to say,"

"I want to hear you say it. Sometimes I'm wrong in my assessments, Blavat taught me that,"

"You're interesting enough that I'll never get tire of you, perhaps even enough to make me love you,"

Adrian turns to face him, allowing Vincent to start washing his torso and hips. "Love me?" Adrian was evidently not wrong, but not fully aware of how much Vincent sees in him. Maybe he didn't dare be so arrogant as to hope.

"Do you love me?" he asks outright, in a tone that allows for no playful words.

"Yes," Vincent doesn't stop. "And I know you love me, you don't have to-" 

"I love you,"

He didn't have to say it. Vincent didn't want him to say it. He has no idea how to react.

"I- thank you,"

Adrian starts laughing. "You're such an idiot, you don't have to keep up your act all the time. You don't need to tell me anything, you don't 'ave to say anything if there ain't nothing to say,"

"You always revert back to your old accent when you're emotional," Vincent observes.

Adrian smirks. "Do I?"

"No," Vincent hums, frowning and taking a few seconds to solve Adrian's newest puzzle. "No, you do it on purpose to make people feel at ease. Ironic, how your real voice makes you seem less dangerous than you really are, and your fake voice tells me exactly how dangerous you are,"

"Lying is a skill," is all Adrian can say, unnecessary but fitting.

He returns the favour by washing Vincent's hair. Vincent doesn't use shampoo, conditioner or soap, only warm water. But his hair feels clean, so Adrian accepts that apparently it naturally cleanses itself.

Vincent stretches his arms above his head, tightening his muscles as much as they'll go before he releases it with a dep sigh. "So, you're into your lawyer..."

"I-I mean," Adrian looks down, fearing he's made a grave mistake. Of course Vincent is jealous!

"Don't worry, my dear," Vincent is right up in Adrian's ear, but the tension isn't sensual. Adrian is completely paralysed with fear. But Vincent pulls back as quick as he drew close. He lies in Adrian's coffin and looks up at his boyfriend with the eyes of a curious child.

"Tell me about him!"

Adrian grins and sits on the edge of the coffin, resting Vincent's head in his lap. "Well, his hair is purple and his voice is smug, so smug you want to pinch the daylights out of him..."

Vincent looks up at him and nods for him to continue, burying his face into Adrian's side. Clinging to him as tightly s he can while Adrian elaborates on the enigma that is Blavat Sky.


	20. Courtroom Drama

Adrian squirms uncomfortably as he sits before the bench in the stuffy courtroom that resembles a 1970's sitting room. Walls that were previously cream-coloured have dirtied to a deep yellow over the years. He watches the judges deliberate in preparation for his trial.

In the gallery, Vincent waits in anxious silence, tightly gripping Diedrich's hand, the friend he forced to come for moral support. Grell is here too, amused by the entire process and serving as moral support for Adrian. William sits beside them, scribbling notes about the trial for further reference.

The judge approaches the bench. Unlike Mr Phantomhive's trial, they aren't wearing wigs. Blavat told Adrian that for Youth Court, the judges try to make it more informal by not wearing wigs and by calling the offender (Adrian) by his first name, unlike adult court.

"Adrian Spears, please approach the bench," the judge addresses Adrian and he does, wrapping his hands around the banister. His hands shudder, feeling nauseous and terrified with the impeding dread of a possible conviction. 

"First, we must address the matter of trespassing. Can the defence please present their case?"

Blavat looks up from the table, having been boredly leaning on his hand the entire time. He scowls ahead and clips his papers together. "Adrian Spears has been falsely accused of a crime exclusively on the basis of Cedric Phantomhive's reports. It is only because of the other charges that trespassing was escalated to criminal court. Otherwise, this would have been a civil matter which the Phantomhives did not, and due to his incarceration, Cedric Phantomhive cannot pursue. Adrian caused no property damage, nor was he charged with any violation of privacy laws, anti-social behaviour or disturbance while on the premises,"

"I am inclined to agree with you," the judge peers over his desk, looking down at Adrian imperially. "I trust that the experience of going through the court system will deter Adrian from trespassing again and therefore, I'm dismissing that charge,"

The tall boy sighs in relief, knowing he'll be breaking into some abandoned factory or school by the time the week is over. _Being deterred from trespassing, my ass,_ he snickers. 

"However, there are more serious charges which now need to be addressed," the judge's face becomes grave. "Can the prosecutor please come in?"

Adrian's hands almost shatter the wooden pew with how tightly he grips it, his teeth almost grind down to nothing, when he sees the prosecutor. From the side door, in walks Aleister Chambers.

"What the fuck is he doing here?!" Adrian's can't contain his rage, his body shudders with the desire to jump over the barrier and finish what he didn't last time. What Aleister was going to do to him doesn't matter - what matters is that he made Vincent stressed during questioning. That's all he hates Aleister for.

"I would advise you to stop shouting immediately!" he judge demands. 

Blavat grabs Adrian by the collar and whispers in his ear with vitriol. "Stop that, they'll hold you in contempt and then you really will get locked up!"

Blavat lets him go and straightens his tie. "With all due respect, I must question Aleister Chambers' credentials for acting as a prosecutor in a Youth Trial. As far as I know, he's a defence lawyer,"

"I'm trained in Child Law, which is why I was allowed to question Vincent Phantomhive as a witness during his father's trial," Aleister explains, mostly to Adrian.

"Of course he's trained in Child Law," Adrian spits out.

"Very well, I have no objections to him acting as the prosecutor in this case" he does, but none the judge would listen to.

"In that case, let's proceed," Alesiter Chambers clears his throat. "Adrian is charged with Breaking and Entering to the Phantomhive house. The defence states that Adrian found it necessary to do so as well as conceal evidence of child abuse as he was acting under duress. However, I must ask how Adrian knew about the abuse to the extent that he as confident enough to find it necessary to break in?"

He smirks over at Adrian, who's unable to stop himself shaking in anger. "I watched it through the window the first time. Vincent invited me that time and he let me in, I didn't break in the first time,"

"And you witnessed abuse?"

"I did,"

Aleister rubs his finger across his lips. "Why don't you tell us about that?"

Blavat stands up immediately. "I reject this line of questioning. This may revive traumatic memories for both Adrian and Vincent Phantomhive, who is in the gallery today,"

"If Vincent Phantomhive doesn't want to hear this, he can step outside," the judge explains. "Adrian, please answer the question,"

Only silence follows from the gallery. Adrian wishes he could see Vincent, to know what he wants him to say. But since Vincent doesn't leave, he must be alright with it.

The silver-haired boy explains what he saw that day, what he heard. Aleister realises that his biggest mistake at every stage was underestimating Adrian. In this case, he didn't expect Adrian to be so calm, so calculated, and explain with such a show of emotion and compassion for his boyfriend. He never expected Adrian to have such a command of language, express the abuse in such detail. In fact, he was relying on Adrian being too angry to answer the question at all and be held in contempt of court.

But of course, Adrian knew this. That's the very reason he acts the way he does - pissed off, reckless, impulsive'''''''''''''''''. An act to draw in such prey. The boy finishes his harrowing story in the knowledge that the judge nd everyone in the gallery felt nothing but sympathy for him. Except Vincent, who's trying not to laugh. 

Aleister slumps in his chair, aware that he's been thoroughly defeated. Blavat stands, smoothing down his bright purple blazer and approaching the bench. He, too, underestimated Adrian's cunning. 

"As you can understand, Adrian was reasonable in concealing this evidence due to its sensitive nature and the necessities of persecuting Mr Phantomhive. He witnessed severe abuse inflicted upon his boyfriend and wanted the harshest possible sentence against his father. As such, he found it necessary to gather more evidence before reporting it to the police - which it has been revealed he did report it, albeit anonymously," 

Aleisrer stands up. "Objection! The Necessity Defence can only be enacted in an emergency situation! Vincent Phantomhive continued to attend school and was able to leave the house, being safe from that situation and able to report it if he decided," 

"Your Honour, if you knew anything about child abuse-" Blavat begins, but the judge raises a hand to stop him.

"Adrian acted under duress, and of necessity for the safety of Vincent Phantomhive," the judge looks at Adrian. "You acted under the reasonable belief that committing these offenses would prevent a greater evil or harm from occurring against Vincent Phantomhive,"

"T- The harm Adrian thought he was preventing was not imminent, which Vincent could have reported at any ti-"

He stops when he feels Blavat's hand on his shoulder. "Aleister, this is not a good take," he whispers. He winks at the flowery blonde, knowing they've won, before withdrawing.

The judge peers over his notes on the case, including the records Blavat provided for drain's character defence. He's a prefect, he gets amazing grades, he's never been in trouble with the law before, and he's risen from an extremely difficult family situation. "Adrian Spears, I am acquitting you of Breaking and Entering and Perverting the Course of Justice. I hope you know that this offence was very serious, the maximum penalty for which is life imprisonment. And I trust-"

He gives an icy stare over the bench, one that sends a clear message of warning.

"-that you did this in response to grievous bodily death to your boyfriend, and that reason alone," he leans back in his seat, his face returning to normal. "I hope to not see you again,"

*

As Adrian is released in the next corridor, he runs into Vincent's arms. He wraps his arms around Vincent's neck and kisses him with the most romantic, least sexual passion the blue-haired boy has ever received. 

"You did very well today," Vincent chuckles deeply in his ear. His voice low and quiet, it sends shivers up Adrian's spine. 

"I'm going to take you home and give you such a reward..."

"Later," Adrian gently and reluctantly removes Vincent's arms. "For now, I have something to finish,"

"Adrian-!" worry flashes in Vincent's eyes.

"You do trust me, do you not?"

Vincent steps back and nods affirmatively.

"Grell," he grins and wraps his arm around his friend's waist. "I'd like your help, if it ain't too much trouble,"

"Oh darling, you're never too much trouble for me,"

They leave the courthouse and Adrian sits on Grell's lap. They sit on the fence across the street and await the courtroom closing.

*

At 1600, the courtroom closes its doors and the employees spill out the building. One of the last people to do so is Aleister Chambers, who walks along the old street, carrying his briefcase.

Opposite the courthouse is a large river shrouded in greenery, a thin strip of forestry separated from the street by a metal fence. Grell sits on the fence, Adrian on her lap as they laugh and share...

Aleister hesitates mid-step, a devious smirk spreading across his face. He, a prosecutor, has stumbled on a gold mine - Adrian Spears underage drinking right outside a courthouse.

So he walks over. Adrian and Grell pretend not to notice him until the last moment, just before he's close enough to grab them.

They start running.

Of course, Aleister follows. In his haste, he doesn't notice when Adrian and Grell take a step higher than they were before, an anomaly in their running gait which the lawyer isn't perceptive enough to pick up on.

He notices one second too late. A glimmer in the afternoon sunset. A long stretch of metal tripwire across the pavement. It catches the edge of his shoe and he watches in horror, the ground coming closer and closer.

He doesn't know how Adrian guessed his height, but at the spot his neck and face fall is a freshly smashed bottle. Aleister crashes into it with all his weight.

*

When they don't see him following anymore, Adrian and Grell turn the corner and slow to a walk.

"That was... that was...!" Grell pants to catch her breath.

"So much fun?" Adrian chuckles. "I know!"

"Do you think he died?" Grell wonders aloud. "I mean, not that I care very much..."

"I wouldn't think so," Adrian shakes his head. "If he did, it'll be ruled as an accident. The wind will carry the tripwire off now that it's been set off, there won't be any evidence,"

"I feel so exhilarating, I could kiss you!"

Adrian gives her a look.

"Don't worry, I won't!"

*

Vincent and Diedrich left the courthouse together. They return to his house and to his bedroom, Vincent kicking off his shoes and wrapping his feet in plastic bags.

"No Adrian today?" his father smiles. His eyes are slightly uncertain, given the 'apology' circumstance the last time Adrian was here.

"No dad - but everything is fine!" Diedrich assures, and it is.

"Do you boys want some tea?"

"Thank you!" they retreat to his bedroom.

Diedrich's bedroom is as boring as the rest of the house, with plastic-wood floors and minimalistic décor. The easiest to clean.

Vincent lies across Diedrich's bed. "Aaaaahhhh," he sighs, relaxed for the first time in a while. The trial has been stressful and black bags have appeared under his eyes. 

"We have homework, remember!" Diedrich sits on the bed beside him, throwing Vincent's book onto his torso.

"Oof," Vincent groans when they land on him and he opens them up. "Right, integers,"

Diedrich watches Vincent struggling with his integers, knowing he'll never ask for help. "This is embarrassing, let me show you,"

"I'm good at people, not... integers," Vincent excuses, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, you should pay attention in school!"

"That's not necessary," he shrugs. "I'm smart enough to figure it out - I just need you to explain," he smiles and flashes his sparkling eyes at Diedrich, who can't say no to him.

After explaining things to Vincent, his question changes from 'How do I do this?' to 'Why the fuck is this a thing?' which unfortunately, Diedrich doesn't have an answer for. 

"So if I take -5 and a half and time by the top and divide by the bottom... uh, what are those called again?"

"The numerator and the denominator!" Vincent and Diedrich cry out in surprise when they see Adrian's face at the window. He laughs and knocks a few times. "I told you that, now let me in!"

Diedrich runs over to the window and sees Adrian clinging to the windowsill, his legs wrapped around the drainpipe. "This is... how did you...?"

"Oh, he does that," Vincent opens the window and pulls Adrian in.

"Wait, your shoes!" Diedrich squeals.

Adrian lands his socked feet on the floor. "I know, I remembered," He points back out the window to his shoes left on the garden steps.

The other boys sigh and return to their books. "If you're going to stay, you must do homework with us," .

"Yeah... Kay," Adrian pulls out a cigarette and his lighter. Diedrich swipes it from his hand.

"You can't smoke in my room!"

"Fiiinneeee," Adrian outs away his cigarette and pulls his books out his backpack. "I don't think I've done homework since... a long time,"

Adrian fills out his worksheet quickly and begins drawing random shit on the page. "What did you get on your GCSEs anyway?"

"An A in Business, English and History... a B in Computing and Chemistry," Vincent shrugs. Adrian looks at Diedrich.

"Well.. abut those..."

"He let his grades suffer last year in exchange for being 'Mr Perfect Prefect' - he took up too many extra duties and it fucked up his GCSEs," Vincent laughs.

"Go on," Adrian holds in his laughs. "What did you get?"

"Four Bs..."

"He... hehe..." Adrian giggles behind his hand. Diedrich huffs in annoyance.

"Ugh, go ahead,"

Adrian bursts out laughing, clutching his sides and rolling around the bed. "You... you act like you're so much better than us! You're so arrogant and you only... oh, that's hilarious," he sits up and wipes tears of jubilance from his eyes.

"Well go on, what did _you_ get?" Diedrich huffs.

Adrian grins and roots through his bag, producing last year's certificate.

"You just... carry that thing around with you?"

"Part of my defence was showing the judge my achievement at school - showing I'm not a criminal and all," he hands it to Diedrich.

"I-"

"Five As," Vincent leans over his shoulder. "My boyfriend the genius,"

Adrian shrugs. "Meh, I'm jus' happy I beat Mr Stick-Up-His-Ass,"

"Mr Stick-Up-His-Ass?" Vincent chuckles.

"That nickname isn't even inventive," the black-haired boy crosses his arms.

"Yeah it is,"

"No it isn't!"

Vincent ruffles Diedrich's black, greasy hair with his hand. "Yes, it is,"


	21. Prefect Sh!t

Adrian sits beside Diedrich in the prefect meeting, only because Diedrich is the only other prefect he's ever met. Ash, the deputy headteacher, heads the meeting with introductions and asks a general question about issues to address throughout the school.

"The litter situation hasn't cleared up..." the others scowl over at Adrian.

"Well, it isn't from my House!" he sneers back. That's true, it isn't from his House, because he's had Grell acting as the Secret Police and reporting back to him. His speech worked. 

"Okay, we'll address it at the next school assembly," Ash writes it down. "There is also the point of school pride - the students have been refusing to clean up their common rooms and talking back to staff who ask them to,"

Adrian rolls his eyes. Are these supposed to be real problems? Is this a joke or something? In his last school, the problems were fights, drugs, stabbings, knife crime, truancy.

"Look, these aren't real issues," he sighs. Diedrich gives him a look of _'What the Hell do you think you're doing?!'_

Ash swallows, what's he doing?

"This school is one of the most docile, well-behaved sh- er, shill-holes I've ever been in. Instead of coming up with fake problems to draw out these unnecessary meetings, why don't we work to reward everyone for being so good that we _need_ to come up with these fake problems?"

The other prefects silently await Adrian's exile from the meeting, but Ash simply hums in consideration.

"You're right,"

"What?!"

"He's right," Ash repeats. "We should be working towards positive reinforcement, making the students respond to us in a positive way rather than being those annoying prefects who complain and get them in trouble. Adrian, what's your idea?"

Adrian blinks and sits back. _I'm supposed to have an idea???_

"Uh, well..." he's good at improvising, but pulling an idea out of his ass in front of a crowd isn't something he revels in doing. "What about a school dance? One for the younger students, which Diedrich here-" he wraps his arm around Diedrich's shoulders and leans right in. "- will supervise,"

"Your breath smells like cigarettes," Diedrich complains and Adrian pulls back.

"And one for the older students, which the teachers can supervise as normal. It can be a December-Christmassy-type celebration,"

"Is everyone alright with that?" Ash asks, and they reluctantly agreed. Ash brings out Adrian's most hated thing - posterboard - and they begin to plan the dances.

*

Adrian flops over Vincent's lap at the cafeteria table, groaning and covering his eyes with his arm to escape the harsh lights.

"Headache?" Vincent guesses, but then Diedrich slams into the opposite seat, seemingly just as mentally exhausted.

"So..." Vincent sucks air in through his teeth, looking between them, confused. "How... was the meeting?"

"Why would you give us- give yourself - less work?!" Diedrich demands of Adrian. "Aren't you the one to avoid doing any work, like, ever?!" 

"That's why I delegated supervision to you," he smirks. "I'm - well, Vincent is - the House Master, so I control planning the dance. Vincent, would you like some control over the Christmas Dance for the Years 10 and up?"

"You decided to make a dance?" Vincent grins. "And I... get to make every decision?" 

"Within the teachers' parameters," Adrian looks at Diedrich. "See, now I don't have to do any work at all. You supervise the little kids, Vincent plans the dance and I get a night of _drinking in school!!"_

The blue-haired boy nods. "When's your next meeting?"

"Now that we have a viable project for the prefects to do, the meetings are every second lunchtime, so our next one is tomorrow,"

Vincent pulls out a notepad ands begins to scribble. "Here's exactly what I want for the dance,"

*

Adrian returns home at the end of the school day, intending to change before going back out. When he gets there, Blavat is waiting in his dining room.

"Eh... hello?"

William sits beside the lawyer, writing a cheque for two thousand pounds which makes Adrian's eyebrows raise. "It took two grand for one consultation and a two-hour trial?!"

"That's how much lawyers cost," William shrugs.

"Good ones, anyway," Blavat chuckles. "Thanks for the cash, I suppose I'm done here," Blavat slides the cheque into his jacket, presumably into some deep inner pocket.

"Oh," Adrian pouts, unable and not willing to hide his disappointment.

"Unless there's anything else you want?"

Adrian thinks for a moment. "Perhaps there is," 

"Well, I'm not paying for it!" William puts away his chequebook. "Your recklessness has already bled me dry, young man,"

"Don't worry, I just need a moment of Mr Psychic's time," Adrian grabs Blavat and drags him out the house.

"You're very uninventive with names," Blavat complains.

"Diedrich said the same thing,"

*

Adrian and Blavat arrive in Vincent's photography tunnel, Adrian shining his torch through the black strip. Vincent is sitting, curled on the side edges, between the gap of the tunnel roof and the angled sides. He slides down on his ass.

"You brought company?" Vincent looks Blavat up and down. "The lawyer,"

Adrian expected him to be more possessive. Vincent however, paces around Blavat in a circle, humming and analysing him like a bookie appraising a racing horse.

"I can see why he likes you," Vincent finally decides, stepping back. "Adrian's type is someone of enough mental fortitude to challenge him. But being hot helps too,"

"Why did you invite me here?" The purple-haired man follows them to the inside of the tunnel and up the sides, crawling until they return to the ledge Vincent was sitting on.

"You know, don't you?" Adrian quirks an eyebrow.

"About Chambers," Blavat nods. "And what about you, Vincent? Do you?" 

"I would if I cared to. I can turn myself off, and I trust Adrian enough not to analyse every aspect of his life,"

"I wish I could turn off," Adrian and Blavat say in unison.

"You can," Vincent points at both of them. "You haven't figure out how,"

"Tell me!" Adrian whines, not really believing him. Not letting himself hope.

"He's lying, people like us can't turn off," Blavat smirks.

"But you can, or don't you want me to let you know how?"

"Go ahead, but it won't work,"

"Alright," Vincent stares at the intently for a moment before his eyes seem to blur. His facial expression falls to neutral, even the colour drains , like a ghost.

Blavat blinks. "Well, I never thought it was possible to do that deliberately,"

"What's he doing?" Adrian whispers to Blavat, but as quickly as he seemed to leave, Vincent returns.

"I was dissociating," Vincent smiles, as if this is the most normal answer he could give. "What you need to do is dissociate to something even more intense than your analysis of people. That way, it's cancelled out. I dissociate to being abused, Adrian, you could dissociate into the fire at the Undertaker's and Blavat..."

He frowns and looks Blavat up and down. "...I don't know, something interesting must have happened to you,"

After Vincent explains how to refine the technique, Adrian and Blavat unfocus their eyes and try it. For Adrian, it works almost immediately, although its something he fights to maintain. His vision is consumed by fire, making his smile stretch across his face painfully.

The tall boy starts to cry involuntarily, although the fire brings a certain calm. He feels like the reaper escorting the damned on their final journey and someday he wishes to accompany Vincent to that eternal destination.

He returns to the present world and looks into Blavat's unemotional eyes. They're sharp, looking around, concentrating too hard to let himself go. Eventually, the lawyer relents. "It's hopeless!"

"It ain't," Adrian places a hand on his forearm and gives him a supportive smile. "If I could do it, you can,"

"Good luck," Vincent nods in agreement. "I must say, I'm pleased Adrian brought you to me. From how hot and bothered he was, I felt a little intimidated,"

"And now you're not?" 

"Nope," Vincent jumps down, into the centre of the tunnel. "If you really wanted Adrian, you'd showcase your true potential instead of holding back. If you were actually trying, I'd really be intimidated,"

Adrian's eyes widen a little as he listens to what Vincent's saying. "You're not trying?!"

"In that case, I must bid you farewell," he takes off his hat and bows slightly. "My business here is done. I'll go straight away and Adrian - I won't forget to bill you for my time,"

"Wouldn't dream of forgetting that," he rolls his eyes. "Capitalist pig,"

"Au revoir, petits ami," On his log legs and even longer heels, Blavat walks out the tunnel.

"I'll miss him,"

The blue-haired boy leans into Adrian and rests his head on the taller's shoulder. "We'll see him again. This won't be the last time you get in trouble with the law,"

"That time might come quicker than you thought,"

"Huh?"

Adrian nods over at the end of the tunnel, where torches shine on them and the reflective vests of the police appear as distant stars. He offers Vincent his had ans the shorter takes it. "You be'er 'ave meant it when you said you trusted me!"

Adrian wrenches Vincent up the roof of the tunnel, using his impressive height to grab the fence above and swing them onto the above ledge. From below, the police shout for them to stop.

"Piss off!" Adrian throws a coke bottle into the tunnel, hoping to knock off one of their hats like in the old comics. He and Vincent traverse to the other side of the tunnel and slide down a grassy hill. Vincent frowns as his mud-covered school trousers.

"Now I have to wash them!"

Adrian pulls him close, sliding his hands into the back of Vincent's pants. "I guess you 'ave ta take 'em off,"

Vincent looks away, irritated, before using the fact that Adrian's hands are trapped in his underwear to push him into the wall. "Don't you dare tease me,"

"I do dare, _Vincent_ Phantomhive," Adrian reaches forward and bites his lip.

"You.." He looks around and plunges his hands into the front of Adrian's jeans. "You had this coming,"

*

Claudia crosses her hands on front of her on the table, feeling the cheap paper cloth. She sits at a secluded corner table of the café near Adrian's house, the one Vincent agreed to meet her at.

When her son sits opposite her, she bursts into quiet tears. "I'm so... I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay mum," Vincent picks up the cup of tea on his side, blowing off the steam before he takes a sip. "I'm really glad you wanted to meet me,"

"Of course I wanted to meet you, you're my son!" she dries her tears on a paper napkin, which dissolves. "I let him do that to you..."

"You loved him, mum," Vincent smiles a little. "And you were scared,"

The woman's teacup almost shatters in her hands. "You can come and live with me... I'm getting a large settlement from the Phantomhive estate, and-"

"No, mum," he looks at her sadly. "I love you, and I want us to keep meeting together like this. I want to have a relationship with you again, you're the only parent I have who cares about me,"

"But...?"

"But, I'm happy with where I live now. And I'm not ready to be tat close to you aain, after what happened,"

"Vincent, you know I was scared..."

"That doesn't change the fact that you never reported him," he shakes his head, he shouldn't have said that. Putting things on her isn't helpful, nor is it fair. "Sorry, but I'm not ready,"

"Will you ever be?"

"I don't know," Vincent admits, those words like blows to her heart. "But I'd like to start spending tine with you again. Real time. I can come and see where you're living right now, come and visit you,"

Wiping away her tears, Claudia takes a larger gulp of tea. "I'd love that,"

He leans over the table and hugs her. Because of the hunk of circular metal between them, hugging should be awkward. But feeling close to her again makes him relax, sending him back to a time when she comforted him in her arms, wiping away the blood and replacing it with octopus bandaids. 

"I want you to know how sorry I am, and how much I love you," Claudia whispers.

Vincent nods into her shoulder. "I do know,"


	22. The Epilogue Too Small for a Title

Adrian dresses for the dance, a white polo shirt under a black sports jacket. Vincent walks in and glares at his choice of outfit. "No, no, absolutely not!"

"Why?" Adrian whines as Vincent undresses him.

"It makes you look like a roadman," Vincent undresses him hastily before picking a different outfit, dressing Adrian.

"It's very different." the outfit is a long, flowy pink dress with sleeves that are too long for him and hang below his hands.

Vincent looks up at him and pecks his nose with a tiny kiss. Adrian whines and rubs it. "Hey, that was a stolen kiss!"

"You're no stranger to stolen things," Vincent chuckles and adjusts the ribbon on his Victorian-style suit. He looks like a nobleman, the final touch would be a top hat but sadly they don't have one of those.

They arrive at the school and find Diedrich since he's just finished supervising the younger students' dance. The trio sees teachers at the entrances, searching people's bags. "Shit!" Adrian pulls Vincent and Diedrich into the darkness before reaching into his bag and producing a litre bottle of vodka from inside.

"You can't bring that inside!" Diedrich frowns.

"Oh, can't I?" Adrian hands the bottle to Vincent and adjusts the back straps of his dress.

*

The teacher finishes searching Adrian. "My my, that was a bit handsy," he laughs, but his homeroom teacher doesn't.

Diedrich swallows with anxiety as they make it into the dance and Adrian turns his back on him. "Well, you're the only one tall enough to pull it out!" Adrian huffs impatiently, and from the back of Adrian's dress, Diedrich pulls the bottle out. It was fixed against his back, wrapped in the straps of his dress.

The cafeteria has been decorated into a deep, dark hall with surreal blue lights streaming down from the rafters. Death surrounds everyone, more on-theme for Halloween than Christmas. Vincent remembers a time when he would hide underneath the covers, texting Diedrich to pretend everything was fine. And now here he is, slow-dancing with his boyfriend to Bob Dylan under a synthetic moonlight.

The blue-haired boy looks at Adrian, amazed by how his life changed so drastically over the past six months. Adrian is responsible for this, this is all his doing. Is it possible that he planned all of this, so long in advance, right up to this moment?

"Le's get a song that's just ours," Adrian suggests, his hands on Vincent's hips as they sway to the music.

"I don't expect you to know all the songs I know..." Vincent looks up and starts really paying attention to the music. "But I like this one,"

"Me too, this one can be ours," Adrian spins around, a sudden movement that pushes his back against Vincent, swaying together this time.

"Would you hate me if I sang it?"

Adrian realises that he's never heard Vincent sing, and if that tells him anything it's that Vincent is a bad singer. "Absolutely,"

Vincent grins at Diedrich relaxing by the drinks table and ends the dance. He walks over and fills his own cup with the murky punch. "You know, Adrian didn't replace you, he never could,"

A hope they thought faded reignites in Diedrich's eyes. "He didn't?"

"No. Because you're different people who are interesting for different reasons," he answers Diedrich's next question before the taller can ask it. "Now, that doesn't mean my interest in you is unquantifiable - it means it doesn't matter very much to me who is _more_ interesting, but whoever can captivate my interest, I will love forever,"

"Vincent..." Diedrich's eyes sparkle with tears and he reaches out to hug him. The short boy allows it, holding Diedrich tenderly in his arms. "I love you,"

"I know you do, I know," Vincent pats him on the head before breaking their hug. "But you need to let me go, its time to let me go,"

"I'll never let you go,"

"You may not have a choice," Vincent sighs and wishes Adrian was beside him so there'd be something stronger to drink.

Instead, Adrian is hanging out with Grell in the bathroom. "So, you're really going?" she asks seriously, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Tonight," Adrian nods. "It's time, I ain't never belonged 'ere,"

"Who'll be the new House Master?" Grell grins. Adrian looks over at her.

"Make that House Mistress,"

"Undie, you're really-"

Adrian takes his prefect badge out his bag and hands it to Grell, then places the vodka bottle on the sink. "I smoothed it out wi' Ash, use it on your resume. What is it you wanna do, anyway?"

The redhead girl unscrews the vodka bottle and fills up the lid, creating a small shot which she downs. Her throat feels refreshed as if she's just drank a cold glass of water despite it being room temperature. "Some kind of field work... a private investigator, maybe?"

Adrian snaps his fingers. "That's fucking perfect! Do that! I'll be disappointed if you don't!"

"I was never one to disappoint," she laughs behind her long, red nails.

The door to the bathroom creaks open but Adrian doesn't bother to hide the vodka. It's just Diedrich and Vincent, the taller looking like he's drunk too much juice and is desperate to pee.

"D'you mind?" Diedrich crosses his legs.

"Go ahead," Adrian raises his hands and steps to the side, sitting on the edge of the sinks. He lights a cigarette now that he's closer to the window.

The blue-haired boy sits on Adrian's lap. "Have you said what you needed to say?"

"Not to everyone," Adrian admits with melancholy. He snaps out of it and looks between Grell and Diedrich. "Let's go explore,"

He leads them around the back of the school, drinking openly now. He grabs a waist-high metal railing and stands upon it, grabbing the doorframe to the back entrance of the school and swinging onto the low roof. His eyes glimmer in the moonlight as he reaches down. "Need some help?"

Vincent reaches up and grabs Adrian's hand and slowly, one-by-one the expert climber helps everyone else onto the roof.

"We can stay here for a while," Vincent wraps his arms around Adrian's waist and stares into those tired and worn eyes hollow in that sharp face.

"This is nice," Grell comments. Diedrich crosses his arms, but his legs swing, a gesture of unconscious excitement.

"Fine, it's nice," he mutters. He blinks in confusion when he sees a vodka bottle shoved under his nose.

"Go on, you'll be a fun drunk,"

He sighs and takes the bottle, drinking a small amount, in tiny sips so as not to choke and look lame in front of Vincent. It shocks his system and creates a sharp jolt in his chest, but then he relaxes.

"Yey!" Grell claps and Vincent laughs. It's a sound like morning songbirds to Diedrich's ears and for a second, he feels fulfilled.

They walk the tipsy Diedrich back to his house, handing him over to his parents with innocent smiles. And they drop Grell off at McDonald's, drawn in by the softness of city lights, making them reluctant to go.

"Did you take care of her for me?" Red wraps her arm around Grell's.

"No promises," Adrian sings and spins around. "But Grell, have fun with all that newfound power," he winks at her.

"Hm?" Red looks questioningly up at her girlfriend.

She giggles and leans in. "I'll tell you later, love,"

"We'll be off, goodbye," Adrian smiles. "I hope this one doesn't last forever,"

*

When they get home, they're perplexed to see all the lights off, the entire house bathed in darkness. "It's not that late, is it?" Adrian whispers so as not to wake William. But when Vincent turns the main light on, the boys see William sitting on the couch, in the darkness. Just waiting for them, his eyes hidden behind his glasses, newly reflected by the light.

Dread settles in the pit of Adrian's stomach when he sees, in front of William, are two suitcases.

"I knew there was something off about you both for the past week," William explains. "I took the liberty of checking under your beds,"

The pair stand in silence, Adrian shuffling his feet.

"Did you intend on leaving without telling me?" William asks, but that isn't the real question. Instead, there exists a list of several questions accompanying that: where are you going, do you have money is this forever, what's your plan?

Adrian answers them all. "I was going to text you once we got on the train. I didn't want to tell you now in case you'd worry, because we do have a plan.

He reaches into the front section of his suitcase and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it to William. "I've been accepted to an embalming course up in Edinburgh, I'm going to be an undertaker,"

"And I'm going to study a Business Management course," Vincent explains.

"We have money, we're going to go to Edinburgh to live and get an apartment," Adrian looks down, reaching out his arms. "We're fine, sorry I didn't tell you,"

After what feels like an eternity of silence, William takes Adrian into his arms and hugs him. "You should be sorry, I would have helped you as much as I could. I will miss you, but I also support you,"

"Adrian," Vincent holds up his phone. "The train leaves in ten minutes," It's a five-minute walk to the station.

"Five minutes?!" William has no time to process this, but Adrian gives him a quick and final hug before picking up the suitcases and running out the door.

Vincent grins at William. "Thanks for everything, especially for making Adrian the way he is," He picks up his suitcase and runs after Adrian as the taller calls on him to 'hurry the fuck up!'

"Well, see you!" Vincent runs out the house and together, they sprint long the dark open road. It's so empty it could be a desert, illuminated by the occasional streetlight contrasting swathes of darkness.

Adrian takes his hand, pulling him even faster, down the narrow trail and to the station. In the distance, the light at the front of the train turns the corner. "We won't make it t if we take the stairs - fuck! Get in front of me,"

Vincent stands in front of Adrian, feeling more excited by the second. This is so interesting! New and foreign behaviours from Adrian for this specific circumstance that he'll never again experience. Adrian pushes him on the tracks and he stumbles, feeling that continued force against his back. Adrian is pushing him in front of the train, Vincent at the front so that if they _just_ don't make it, it's Adrian who'll get hit.

But they make it to the other side, standing up on the platform just as the brightness of the train passes by.

Adrian sits beside Vincent on the train to Edinburgh, the blue-haired boy engrossed in his thoughts. He picks Vincent's phone up form the table and hands it over. "Call Diedrich,"

Vincent's eyes widen and he gulps. He frowns a little, the phone seeming predatory trust forward like that, like a weapon.

"It's better to call him now and get this over with,"

Vincent sighs softly as he takes the phone and calls Diedrich. Adrian doesn't listen, allowing them to have a more honest conversation as friends. He looks out from the tracks, passing through the countryside at night. It maintains an eerie kind of beauty that makes him feel like he's in the gothic times, the eighteenth century, despite being surrounded by the technology of the train.

The silver-haired boy now looks around the train carriage, empty except for them. Then he looks at Vincent, letting himself be absorbed by his eyes, the movements of his mouth, his soft skin like newly formed glass.

Vincent puts his phone down and clicks off the call, sighing deeper than he had before the call. "So, how bad was the reaction?"

"He's confused, he's hurt, he hasn't processed it yet - of course, he didn't tell me any of those things, he's so damn scared of losing me,"

"Well... he doesn't have much of a choice now," Adrian shrugs. "You tried to explain shit and he didn't listen. I thought me and him could bond over our mutual need for you, but I guess not,"

He snickers and reaches up to strokes his fingers through Vincent's hair. "I'm gonna miss making fun of him,"

"I'm not going to miss anything from home," Vincent lies, looking out the window as Adrian had. "I'm leaving that behind and making a new life with you. Thank you for coming with me, I wasn't sure you would,"

"Yes you were," Adrian kisses him on the cheek and nestles into his jacket, their bags shoved further under the seats. "I love you, my love. I'd never let you leave without me... in fact, I'd kill you before I did,"

"I don't doubt that,"

Adrian curls up tighter, wrapped in his clothes and Vincent's arms. He lets his eyes close, lets himself fall asleep.

Suddenly, there's a tapping on his shoulder. Adrian opens his eyes and looks around the train, seeing that darkness still surrounds them and the train remains bright white.

"Oh... did I fall asleep?"

"Indeed, you were gone for hours," Vincent gives him a lighthearted chuckle. "And you drool in your sleep, it's so cute!"

"Ssshhhuuu' th' fuck up," he grumbles, rubbing his head. That was the kind of dead-weight sleep that he won't recover from for the rest of the day and just wants to curl up under the duvet and overheat.

"Okay, I guess I'll just leave you on the train back to England and live in London by myself,"

His eyes snap open and adjust to the light, realising that the train is stationed in the dark tunnels of Edinburgh station, just about to enter the country's capital. Gradually, light overcomes the darkness of the tunnel and they're in the station.

"It's very metal," Adrian looks around, picking up his suitcase and waiting by the door. He leans against it too absorbed in fatigue to pay any attention.

The blue-haired boy smirks. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you once we get to the hotel,"

*

Vincent doesn't have the opportunity to take care of Adrian because the moment he crosses the threshold, he crashes into the hotel double bed. Vincent pets his hair, wet from the rain. He pulls the blanket up over Adrian's wet, shivering body and finishes with a kiss on his cheek, right on his scar. "I hope you don't catch a cold,"

Vincent takes a while to unpack his own things, filling the wardrobe. He explores the five-star hotel room, including the minibar of snacks and the tray of apples he isn't sure are free or not.

Eventually, he's ready to crash so he pulls back the blanket, nestling into bed. He stays on his own side because Adrian is cold and wet, but he does watch the silver-haired boy sleep. He feels bad for Adrian, the boy will be missing his coffin. 

Vincent stretches his arm across the bed and takes Adrian's hand, now feeling wide awake and ready to be romantic. He looks up at the ceiling and a smile naturally creeps onto his face. Peace settles over him. He finally feels secure, away from his old life. This is where his life begins, his life with Adrian.

*

**This was really fun to write! I'm starting another Vintaker, it'll be called 'Bait' and have 148 chapters! So follow me if you want to read more of this pairing. And feedback on this story would be great!**


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